Tenkai City
by MsLyoness
Summary: Taishakuten's a mob boss, Kujaku is a secret agent, and Karura busts heads in Zouchouten's bar. Add inappropriate behavior, cameos, and an overprotective cockatoo, shake violently, and pray it doesn't explode.
1. Go Back To Your Drinks

(Author's Notes: This is an alternate universe, and _very_ different from CLAMP's manga, with guns, smartphones, and high-school babysitter Ryuu.

As for warnings, there are a number of them. Make sure you read 'em, and if you don't like something specified here, please don't write me a nasty review _just_ about that, because I'm giving you the heads-up right now. Oh, and this will go up to an M rating eventually.

There will be violence. People will lose their lives. There are three homosexual relationships (and Vahyu being stereotypical). There will be consensual, somewhat explicit sexual relations, both straight and homosexual, with a little bondage thrown in here and there. There will even be mention of rape and suicide. All that being said, a good percentage of this is meant to be humorous.

Adult language is a given (mostly thanks to Koumokuten), and there's copious use of alcohol and cigarettes (again, mostly thanks to Koumokuten). And finally, this will differ quite a bit from the manga; a couple of themes will be used here but it's a completely different world, both in the setting and some of the characters' relationships.

Needless to say, I don't own "Rg Veda". It belongs to CLAMP. They created a visually gorgeous story about destiny, sacrifice, and some really pretty people, and I've borrowed it without permission and turned it into a rather risqué AU where businesspeople and hitmen trade snarky barbs with teachers, bouncers, and a feminist rocker with a martial-arts instructor girlfriend.

I do feel rather bad about that, but it sure was fun to write. And please please _please_ be kind enough to give me feedback, because it's how I improve.

So, enough of that. On to the fic!)

**Chapter One: Go Back To Your Drinks**

Tenkai City in the early spring of 2011 was much like any other Midwestern city. Citizens, some bad, some good, but the vast majority somewhere in between, heaved a relieved sigh that the evil forces of winter had been defeated by the united powers of the Earth's axis and the sun.

Many of them greeted the month of March with astonishment that yes, the snow _was _melting. It always had and it always would, but people were always somehow surprised by this. Most of the denizens of Tenkai City celebrated by wearing unseasonably light clothing and saying things like "Here comes summer!"

Yes, the population as a whole was very happy. Of course, there are always exceptions.

In a bar she only vaguely remembered the name of, one such deviation from the norm stared into her glass as if it could somehow tell her what to do now. Loud music thrummed behind her, making her head pound with the beat, and the sounds of boisterous patrons slammed into her ears.

_Five years_. Five years on the police force, five years of glowing reviews and commendations, and she'd thrown it all away. Karura Skye sipped her drink, resisting the urge to bawl. What had she always told the victims of violent crime? "Don't take matters into your own hands. Doing so will only make it harder to get justice." She hadn't taken her own advice, and now she was screwed.

She put her head down on the counter and started to cry. Behind her, someone broke into joyous song.

Zouchouten Southland, co-owner, manager, and occasional bartender and bouncer for the Four Gods bar, was not in a good mood. And someone was singing, damn it. He _hated_ when they started singing.

The band had arrived late, their lead singer/guitarist was still fixing her hair, and his head of security had just quit in high dudgeon after being thrown up on one too many times. Add to that the fact that it was ladies' night and there were no less than ten tables of drunken college girls, and you had the makings of a killer stress headache –

"Z! Check out the chick at table six! Take it off, baby, yeah!"

And Koumokuten Oeste was not helping at all.

Zouchouten glanced over to the right, not surprised at what he saw. His business partner and best friend had one arm around a beautiful woman, and the other was holding a half-empty glass of tequila. "God, I fucking _love_ ladies' night, Z!" Koumokuten shouted happily, hoisting his glass high. "Don't you?"

Zouchouten ignored him, stalking over to the bar. "I thought I told you to cut them off when they start singing," he said to (or rather, bellowed at) the woman pouring a generous shot of Jose Cuervo into a glass. "Hanranya, you _know_ how annoying that is!"

She gazed at him calmly, tawny eyes glittering from beneath smoky lashes and her bangles jingling as she stowed the bottle. "I'm going on my break. Not my problem."

"Your break? Is Varuna here yet? He's your replacement, and you can't go on break without someone to replace you!" Zouchouten yelled over the pounding bass guitar.

Hanranya just shrugged. "Ask and the Goddess shall provide. You're here. Why don't you watch the bar?"

He snapped, "Absolutely not. Look, I have three things to do already. Your break can wait!"

"Need I remind you of state law, Zouchouten? It clearly states that I'm entitled to –"

"Fine. _Fine!_" He threw up his hands in frustration. "Go on your break. Make it fast."

"Thank you." Hanranya smiled serenely and moved out from behind the bar, then turned to look at him quizzically. "You're a Pisces, right?"

"I don't see what that has to do with this," he grumbled, and she replied seriously, "Well, the position of Saturn says big-time romantic dividends are on the horizon for Pisces."

"Right." Zouchouten rolled his eyes. "Just like the time the movements of Venus told you it was my lucky day and my car got broken into. Hanranya, forgive me if I don't believe in that mystic shi–"

"But you _were _lucky that day!" she protested, and he raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "How?"

"You were lucky because they didn't go for your CDs," Hanranya replied, like this was a gift from the universe.

"Only because they took my stereo." He sighed, giving up. "Just go take your break, okay?" She nodded regally, blending into the crowd, and he remembered vaguely that her fiancé was an up-and-coming lawyer. If that wasn't opposites attracting, he didn't know what was.

"Dude! Cuervo!" an exuberant young man said, waving his hand in the air. "That's mine!"

_She can't even serve the drink she just made before she up and leaves, _Zouchouten thought in complete exasperation, passing Cuervo guy his glass and mentally daring him to complain. Luckily for everyone, the multipierced patron just grinned and sipped his drink as Zouchouten sighed, his gaze running down the length of the bar.

It passed over the standard fare: frat boys, scantily-clad women, two executive types out of their suits and behaving worse than the frat boys, that moronic singing guy, a pale, out-of-place young woman who looked like she'd be a good candidate for a suicide watch poster –

Wait.

He hesitated. He'd seen an awful lot of unhappy people in this line of work, but this one made the rest of them look like they were at a party. Everything about her screamed dejection, and by the way she was belting her liquor she was obviously trying to forget something. He might have let it be and served her another, but one look at the man next to her made up his mind.

Zouchouten was in favor of consenting adults doing whatever they damn well pleased, but he'd never felt right watching someone get taken advantage of. He'd seen it too many times, and what the hell, nobody needed anything right now anyway.

Through her alcoholic buzz, Karura noticed that the guy to her right had just inched closer. Then a deep voice penetrated the fog: "Leave the lady alone. She's in no condition to be fit company."

The guy immediately stopped his invasion of her personal space, and Karura looked up, wondering what had compelled him to do so. She blinked in confusion, because somehow the woman who'd served her had morphed into a man. A _big_ man.

"You all right, ma'am?"

She shook her head slightly to clear it. What was _in _this drink? She could have sworn the bartender was a New Age-type lady, not a huge guy with shoulders as broad as a small car.

"A Volkswagen," she muttered, and the guy blinked himself.

"All right, that's it. No more screwdrivers for you." He reached out a hand in the manner of someone used to being obeyed, and she found herself passing him her glass and then sitting there, wondering what to do now.

"Take my advice…it's never that bad," he told her, before a very loud chorus of "Ninety-Nine Bottles Of Beer On The Wall" reached his ears and he sighed, his grip tightening rather dangerously on the glass. "Okay, maybe it is, but it'll pass. It has to."

He didn't sound completely convinced.

Karura just groaned. "Can I have my drink back?"

"Legally, if you bought it, it's yours." He made no move to return it to her, though, and she frowned. They locked gazes for a while, until she finally decided it wasn't worth it and dropped her head to the table.

Zouchouten studied her. "You're obviously running away from something. You don't seem the type to slam back hard liquor for kicks."

"I'm not, not that it matters now," she sighed into her arms. "It's not your problem, anyway."

"Of course it isn't, I just –"

"Hey! Linebacker guy! Another round of Heineken over here!"

Karura watched with a kind of fascination as the big bartender's jaw clenched and a vein throbbed in his forehead. "Fuck it," he muttered, slamming her drink down before her and turning towards the partying executives.

No sooner had she picked up her drink than three college boys surrounded her. "Aw, are ya runnin' away from somethin', babe?" one of them smirked.

"Go away," she said, clipped and annoyed.

"Ooh, only if you come with me, sexay," another laughed, slipping his arm in what he probably thought was a casual movement onto the back of her chair.

"I'm not going to warn you again," Karura said clearly, a cold tone in her voice that would have stopped smarter men right in their tracks. Indeed, the guys sitting next to her were starting to edge away, but the standing idiots paid it no heed.

"C'mon, don't be so frigid." A hand started to move towards a breast. "Want me to warm you up?"

The sound of breaking wood cracked in the air, and Zouchouten looked over just in time to see Karura send the second college guy into a second table with a controlled flip.

"Whoa!"

"Look out!"

"Aaahh!"

"You _go, _girl!" That was Kendappa, the band's lead singer, who had apparently fixed her hair to her specifications and was cheering on the pale woman, her set forgotten and her fist pumping as she screamed encouragement into her mic.

_Why am I not surprised? _Zouchouten had time to think before the third victim crashed into the new furniture he and Koumokuten had just bought. He glanced around. The other bartenders had taken cover, his bouncers were all otherwise engaged, and some patrons were fleeing and others were pressing in to watch the new entertainment.

He returned his attention to the one-woman wrecking crew. Of all days for his security head to quit… He sighed, loosening his neck. No sense in letting her go nuts.

He stepped out from behind the bar, and then the strangest thing happened: she looked around her, blinked, and collapsed onto her barstool with a wrenching sob. The room stilled, waiting for further action, but all she did was cry and cry like her heart was broken. The formerly singing guy was bold enough to extend a finger and poke her shoulder gingerly.

"All right, that's enough. Go back to your drinks. Now." The ominous command from the huge bartender was enough to break through Karura's misery, and she sniffed, raising her head slightly. There was a noise like a hundred people drawing breath in anticipation.

"I said NOW."

The entire room obeyed, nervous laughter swelling in the air as everyone suddenly decided the fun was over, and turned back to the conversations and various alcoholic beverages they'd been engrossed in earlier.

Zouchouten approached the crying woman with something like fascination. He hadn't seen anyone lay out three men that fast in a long time. The most unusual thing about it, he realized, was that she'd just crumbled instead of going into a berserker rampage and necessitating the use of tranquilizers. It was as if she'd stared into something primal and found it unable to help her.

He opened his mouth, fully intending to say something along the lines of "You owe me serious money for damages, Jackie Chan," but surprised himself by shutting it and pulling up a barstool next to her.

"That was impressive," he said conversationally. "Judo?"

"Karate," she hiccupped. "A lot of good it did me…I couldn't save my – my –"

She broke off into a wail, and he leaned back a bit. Loss was clearly written in her posture, and he could tell that this wasn't about some boyfriend who'd moved on to greener pastures.

"Uh –"

"And I can't even really afford another drink so I can forget!" she bawled. " I got fired last week, and my Garuda needs peanuts, and –"

_What the hell is a Garuda? _Zouchouten wondered helplessly. _Geez, lady,_ _you are a mess. _He sighed mentally. _And I'm about to do something completely stupid because I feel really sorry for you._

"Have you ever considered security work?" There. He'd done his good deed for the day. Helping the downtrodden, or something like that.

She looked at him as though he'd grown an extra head. "Security work."

"Sure. I'm short on bouncers right now. You can hold your own, and you need a job. It could be mutually advantageous." He scribbled his contact info on a napkin and passed it to her, and she clutched it like it was a lifeline. It was almost painful to watch.

"Thank you," she croaked, staring at him like he'd just saved her and her entire family from a burning building. It embarrassed him, frankly.

"I'll be going now," she told him, managing to stand up. "Goodbye."

"Bye." He watched her weave her way through the crowd, and sighed out loud. Had that been a mistake, giving some random brawler the number to his office? Probably not, he decided, because he'd be surprised if she even remembered what had happened in the morning, much less submitted an application –

"Z, do we have another subwoofer? Gandarajah's backup one just blew."

"I'll be there as soon as I can, Koumokuten. Hanranya's not back from her break yet." And with that, Zouchouten turned his attention from the possibilities of tomorrow to the certainties of tonight.

A bespectacled Yasha Yama sat at his desk at Tenkai City Community College the next day, grading papers and trying not to beat his head on the wood. He'd assigned a perfectly reasonable essay question ("In The Color Purple, Celie endures the husband she was forced to marry and desires Shug Avery. Discuss the conflicting pressures of public opinion and desire and give examples to defend your position"), and no less than five of the girls had managed to use the _purely hypothetical _situation of a student and her attractive teacher. One had even slipped and used his name.

"Yama, Seiryuu Pendragon must be stopped."

At the sound of Kumaraten Hades' voice, Yasha looked up from the latest essay of inappropriate wish fulfillment with something akin to relief. The chemistry teacher stomped into the room, grabbed a chair, and straddled it after turning it around. "He's an absolute _menace_."

"What did he do now?" Yasha asked, remembering last week's lab fire clearly.

Kumaraten groaned. "He shook the vial that was labeled 'Do Not Agitate' in really big letters, apparently because he thought the warning was a joke. It reacted and disintegrated and the table started to dissolve." He sighed dismally. "His lab partner was in tears and had to go home to recuperate."

Yasha absentmindedly tossed the paper he was grading into the recycling as he asked, "Didn't his brother keep him in line?"

"No," Kumaraten lamented. "Hakuryuu was taking a makeup test in the next room." He gestured pointedly at the recycling bin. "Somehow I don't think you meant to do that."

Yasha groaned. "It's starting again, Kumaraten. It's getting absolutely dreadful."

"Have you been asked to the graduation dance again?" the aforementioned man questioned. "That happened the past three years, right?"

"No, not yet, thankfully. Maybe I still have karma from the time two former cheerleaders bitchslapped each other in the hallway over who could ask me last year," Yasha muttered gloomily.

Kumaraten smirked. "You're just lucky the president believes you when you say you hate student-teacher affairs."

"That's because I _do! _I despise them with a passion," Yasha muttered. He looked at Kumaraten accusingly. "Unlike _some _people I could name."

Kumaraten held up his hands defensively. "Look, Yama, I was Kahra's _tutor. _I was in _college. _She was a senior in high school, she was eighteen years old, and we waited until _she _went to college herself before things got adult. And I _married _her, for heaven's sake, and –"

"Yes yes, we all know the story of your proposal during your graduation speech and how her brother rushed the stage. Everyone's heard it so much we've got it memorized," Yasha warned in a low, annoyed grumble, picking up another essay.

He read the first two sentences, and his face darkened like a thundercloud. "Six. _Six!_ Goddammit, this has to stop!"

Kumaraten watched this eruption in bemusement. "Maybe they like you because you have such long hair? Women love a man with long hair," he smirked, remembering how he'd grown his own out for his wife, who had a habit of running her fingers through it sensually.

"I don't know!I have a _son, _you'd think they'd back off –"

"Whoa, calm it down there, Yama. A lot of women absolutely love kids. For example, my wife –"

Yasha threw the entire pile of essays into the air at that. Leaving Kumaraten blinking as paper fell on his head and all around him, the Literature teacher grabbed his jacket, wrenched the door open, and hurtled down the hall. He was so fed up that he knocked the president down as he stormed out to his car, splashing through grime and very deep puddles.

Once fifteen minutes and a respectable number of miles had passed, he unclenched his hands one by one from the steering wheel. Envisioning them around a student's neck was really, he told himself firmly, not a nice thing to do.

He finally pulled up outside his house and took a few minutes to calm himself down. Ashura was probably home by now; his babysitter picked him up from first grade punctually on his way back from his own high school, and his adopted son was very good at divining Yasha's emotions.

He got out, shut the car door carefully, and walked up his sidewalk. Ryuu Nahga's beat-up old truck was also in front of his house, Yasha noticed, so Ashura was definitely there.

Yasha unlocked his front door, noticed with approval that Mozart was playing on the sound system, and stepped inside to see his son and his babysitter sprawled out in the living room with paper and art supplies.

Ryuu grinned up at Yasha from his place on the floor. "We were coloring," he told his charge's father happily.

"Yasha, Yasha, I drew this for you!" Ashura launched himself into his father's arms, waving a piece of paper excitedly. Yasha smiled and looked at it obediently. "My, Ashura, that's such a nice…uh…"

"It's a peacock," the six-year-old told him proudly. "It's purple because Ryuuy used all the blue and green."

"Kid, c'mon, you used those crayons too! And what's wrong with a violet peacock, anyway?" Ryuu protested. "Yasha, tell him that – Yasha?"

The man's face had gone still and sad, and it was downright disturbing. Ashura cocked his head. "…Yasha? Don't you like it?" he asked, sounding hurt.

At the sound of his son's voice, the teacher shook himself out of whatever reverie he'd been in. "Of course I like it, Ashura. I _love _purple peacocks. In fact," he hugged Ashura suddenly, "I'm going to frame this and put it on my desk at school."

Ryuu beamed, pleased with this example of encouraging parenting, and never suspected that Yasha might want the picture for another reason.

New York City's Central Park was a nice place, the sunglasses-clad man thought, with the wind blowing through his wavy hair and the first flowers peeking up through the last traces of melting snow. A group of teenage girls giggled and looked at him shyly, and his brilliant smile made them shriek and wave.

_Man, I love being outside. That office is just too stuffy some days – _

"I want to break _free! _I want…to…break…_free –_"

Freddy Mercury started singing in his coat pocket, and he pulled out his vibrating smartphone. The screen changed from its desktop background of a tall, stoic-looking man with his arm around the phone's owner to the cell phone display.

Smirking, he said (with exaggerated seriousness), "This is Playboy One. Go."

The voice on the other end sounded exasperated. "Ku, you can stop doing that now. The objective's over, drama queen."

Kujaku Valentine laughed. "Hey, being an international man of mystery's addicting, Twelve."

His boss sighed. "I told you, you can call me Bob. Seriously. Even my wife calls me Twelve sometimes."

Kujaku made a face at his phone, then put it back to his ear. "Fine, be that way, _Bob._ I still think there's a couple loose ends, though."

"Ku, this isn't Hollywood. There's always going to be at least one loose end. But fine, what is it?"

Kujaku turned serious. "The arms shipment. We never traced it. Personally, people who can ship enough hardware to practically arm a small town without anyone knowing who they are make me worried." He kicked at a pebble and smiled at a passing toddler. "I think it was Taishakuten's guys, personally."

There was a groan on the other end. "You think Taishakuten's behind every kidnapping and unsolved robbery in the entire country."

"I do not!" Kujaku protested indignantly. "He's not into that small stuff, anyway." He tossed a bill into a panhandler's hat absentmindedly. "We do have a good line on his new base, though: Tenkai City. Give me a couple weeks, and I can –"

"No, you won't. You have unused vacation time that you are required to take by law just piling up. That's why I called you."

"Aw, Twelve! No fair!" Kujaku whined. "And after I sent you that fruit basket, too."

"Especially after that. I know a bribe attempt when I see one. Look, one month. It'll do you good. Stop trying to fix the world for once and relax. You're good at relaxing on agency time, after all."

"Hey, I think better lying down in the dark, I really do!" Kujaku protested, then sighed. "Okay, Bob, I'll take a vacation. I'll see the sights, I'll go to bars, all that jazz." He grinned suddenly. "I have the perfect place in mind."

"Good. Where?"

"Tenkai City," Kujaku informed his boss, then hung up before he could protest. He turned his phone off and laughed so hard that two old women feeding pigeons looked at him strangely.

In the Ninjitsu no Tsuki dojo, a fourth-degree black belt stood in the "at-ease" position.

She breathed deep, centering herself, then assumed the "ready" pose. Holding herself completely still, she cleared her mind of all distraction, which was easy because no one else was around.

_I am one with the universe. I am one with all life._

She took one more breath, and then, with a quick "HA!" she shattered the training bricks with a single back ax-kick.

Souma Moon straightened up, bowed at the bricks because she bowed at any opponent when in uniform, and went to prepare for her next class. White-belted novices could be a challenge, but this particular class was dear to her heart, because it was a self-defense class for women.

Souma believed very strongly that all life should be respected, but she was also a very firm believer in the right to defend oneself and those one loved. In her mind, if someone made it clear they were going to seriously hurt you, it was much better to take them down before they could do so.

And she could take almost anyone down (and out), armed or not. She never bragged about it, it was just part of life, like the way Kendappa played guitar and loved music.

_Kendappa…_

Souma stood still in the act of putting out training dummies, a goofy smile on her face. Now _there _was someone you did _not _want to mess with!

Souma had met her girlfriend at one of her self-defense classes three years ago. The musician had put her ridiculously long hair into a braid, tied her beginner's belt around her, and kicked the crap out of the unfortunate student who'd been showing her how to go for weak points.

Souma's jaw had dropped, the student had yelled "Great! Keep doing that!" and Kendappa had smiled and said cheerfully, "My mom was an aikido enthusiast."

Souma had made the decision then and there that she would train Kendappa one-on-one, because everyone else was scared of her. It had nothing to do, she had assured herself at the time, with the other woman's beautiful blue eyes or easy laugh.

And so they'd gone over patterns, and they'd sparred, and one day Kendappa had said to Souma, "When are you going to kiss me?" like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And it had been, it had been simple and easy and just plain _wonderful_. They'd ended up making love on the floor mats, which Souma had thought she really should have been ashamed of, going at each other after they'd met only four months ago.

But Kendappa didn't care, and Souma soon found that she didn't care, and if anybody else cared, that didn't matter because they had each other.

They spent an awful lot of time just hanging out at their condo, the martial artist playing with the musician's hair as Kendappa composed songs. She usually went for feminist rock anthems with names like "Go Fuck Yourself, Perv", but she'd been making a habit lately of penning romantic ballads because Souma liked them so much.

Souma went to see Kendappa play, was told emphatically _not _to punch men who hit on her after performances, and got to be a fairly good singer herself. Kendappa cheered Souma on at all competitions, proudly displayed all her girlfriend's trophies, and once beat up a biker who wouldn't leave another woman alone.

Life was good.

"Moon-sensei! I came early to practice my form, just like Jet Li!" one of the master's more enthusiastic new students chattered, having just come in from outside, her face earnest and excited.

"Well, you do have over an hour before class begins, but…" Souma smiled proudly, "let's see your front kick."

Yes, life was good indeed.

Karura's apartment was decent. A cop didn't make a huge amount of money, but she was very wise with what she had earned, and she'd managed to afford not only a good car (although she was still paying for it) but a residence in a safe neighborhood.

She actually could have made her place nicer, as she'd had the money to bring in pricier furniture and an expansive television, but Karura didn't spend a lot of time watching TV or sitting around. She usually spent time in her bedroom only to sleep, the kitchen was adequate for her needs, and up until two weeks ago, she'd been spending her days running around enforcing the law.

Her lips thinned at that thought. If she didn't get the job she'd applied for, she might have to –

"Karura! Karura!" It wasn't a human's voice calling her name.

The cockatoo she'd been snuggling before her mind went off to a dark future bobbed up and down, then butted her with his head to bring her attention back to him. She stroked him lovingly. "Sorry, Garuda. I was just thinking."

He turned his head to stare at her with one dark eye, then the other one. "Sorry. Sorry Garuda," he repeated. He was a talker, and she encouraged it because it gave him something to learn.

She of course made sure he was mentally stimulated with an ever-changing mountain of bird-safe toys, non-toxic things to chew on, and tons of affection, but he loved to imitate sounds and she was always proud of him when he pronounced a new word. He was starting to string three together now, which she rewarded with praise and a healthy treat.

At age ten, Karura had been given a young, not-yet-fledged Garuda by her father. Watched carefully and encouraged by both parents, she'd played with him, trained him, and fallen so much in love with the gentle white bird that she'd brought him to college with her. She wondered sometimes how she'd ever lived without her feathered friend; they were so bonded it was like an inspiring, kid-safe movie.

She glanced at the clock. "I'm sorry, Garuda, but I have to put you back now. Mommy has to go out."

Garuda made sad little noises as she placed him back in his spacious cage, then perked up when she handed him a new toy. As the cockatoo happily destroyed the woven palm fronds, his human picked up her wallet, her keys, and a napkin she'd kept close like some sort of good-luck charm.

"Go out?" Garuda questioned, and Karura turned back to him. "I'll be back soon, sweetie. I have an interview with," she glanced at the wrinkled napkin, "Z. Southland." She smiled then. "The bartender with Volkswagen shoulders."

Clutching her talisman, Karura Skye walked off for the interview that would set the rest of her life in motion.

(AN: Kujaku's last name is actually inspired by the English dub of the anime "Yugioh", of all crazy things: a character whose surname name was "Kujaku" now has the surname "Valentine". It was all I could think of.

This multi-chaptered story is finished. I've come to realize that all chaptered fanfics should be written and posted like this, because this way I could reread and edit it. So, each week or so, I'll post a new chapter. There may be some very slight tweaking I do as a result of feedback, but really, how it is now is how it'll be. Just to warn you, there are a total of twenty-seven chapters, and this thing is novel-length. I do think it's somewhat good, if I do say so myself.

By the end, almost every "Rg Veda" character who has a name will show up in some form or another, either mentioned by someone else or for a brief in-person cameo. I think the only one who _doesn't _pop in is the Old One, Kumaraten's loyal…retainer, or whatever he was.

I should warn you that it's pretty Karura-centric, especially in the first few chapters. So if you were hoping for Crime Lord Taishakuten banging Secret Agent Lord Ashura in multiple ways in multiple chapters, you'll be quite disappointed indeed. Sorry.

Still, Kujaku gets a lot of screentime (pagetime?), yay. Breaks up the monotony of the bar scenes, and gives us a different perspective.)


	2. You'll Do

In the garage next to the Four Gods, Zouchouten stared at his 1982 collector's Harley-Davidson. He wasn't imagining things: it had picked up a few scratches, although he had no idea how, and it was a matter of masculine pride that his baby stayed in tiptop condition. _If I can't keep up my Harley, I can't keep up anything._

He sighed, taking off his gloves. _Maybe it's scraped because it's a voodoo doll for my life. _He hadn't exactly been inundated with quality candidates for the vacated security spot. Three had sounded good on the phone but were not so impressive face-to-face, one had stolen a paperweight that he'd always kind of liked, and another had been some sort of Neo-Nazi. Koumokuten had hit it off with that last guy, but Zouchouten had put his foot down and that had been that.

He patted the handlebars like a father soothing his child. "Don't worry, Koumokuten said this last interview seems the most likely. Then once we hire someone I can fix you right up –"

"Are you talking to your bike again?"

He whipped around, flushing.

"Don't look so embarrassed. It's a living spirit, you know. You really should tie some eagle feathers on it –"

"Hanranya," Zouchouten groaned, "what are you doing here? You have today off."

"Jupiter was rising. Bad time for negativism," she proclaimed seriously. "My cat clawed up my couch, so instead of yelling at her I thought I'd come here and renew the wards on the entrances. You know, so Evil can't get in."

_I don't mind Evil as long as Evil pays its tab. _Zouchouten resisted the urge to say just that, because if he did she'd probably tell him he needed to spend time in a sweatlodge, breathing sage and chanting to the Greek pantheon or something. Hanranya had no sense of humor about what she referred to as her "true life's work".

He settled for a grouchy "Keep that damn holly off the windows" and stalked inside. Koumokuten would probably find this exceedingly funny. He encouraged Hanranya, mostly because Zouchouten hated her idiocy, he thought sourly.

Koumokuten had once suggested that the bartender should perform a ritual, naked dance on the counter on Midsummer's Eve, and he'd selflessly offered to record it for posterity. Zouchouten had had a quick, angry, and very loud word with him about that, then told Hanranya that one really had to be around Pictish standing stones for that sort of thing to have any effect.

She'd happily obeyed his plea _not _to listen to Koumokuten, but had informed Zouchouten that standing stones were a spiritual legacy of the Druids. He'd thought about telling her that the things were erected thousands of years before the Celts, according to overwhelming archaeological evidence, but he'd let it go. It wasn't worth it.

Now, taking the stairs two at a time, he prayed to whatever would listen that this next interview would be with a normal person. Two – no, wait, Aguni – okay, _three_ – oh, and then there was Vahyu, damn – all right, _four _insane people (_Why do I suddenly not expect the Spanish Inquisition?) _were more than enough for him to have to deal with on a daily basis.

He peered around for Michael Palin, realized that he was getting just as bad as everyone else, and stomped into the office.

"Z. What's up?" Koumokuten had his feet on the desk, reading a girlie magazine. "Damn Z, Miss April sure has big –"

"I don't care about Miss April, I care about being a professional!" Zouchouten snapped in an uncanny imitation of a large, snarling carnivore, yanking "XXXtremely Naughty Coeds" out of Koumokuten's hands, ripping it to shreds, and throwing the whole thing out the window.

_Maybe a hyena,_ Koumokuten mused, _or a lion, with those sideburns._

"Now," Zouchouten said deliberately, "when do we interview the next applicant?" He was taking slow, measured breaths, and despite wanting very much to run outside to see if an airbrushed boob had escaped the wrath of Zouchouten-sama, Warlord of "I Hate Fun", Koumokuten let it go.

"Five minutes. I think this is the one, Z."

"Good, good." Zouchouten pulled up a chair. He did vaguely recall seeing a figure out in the hall while checking for Monty Python. "Name?"

"Karura R. Skye. She's twenty-six years old."

"Okay, what else?"

Koumokuten fingered an earring absentmindedly. "You know, my first reaction when I saw that a chick had applied was to laugh. I mean, it's bad enough we have flaming gayboy Vahyu, but a woman bouncer is just asking for trouble."

"But?" Zouchouten prompted, and Koumokuten smiled. "Yeah, of course there was a 'but'." He picked up a file and handed it to his friend. "She's got great credentials and a black belt, she was head of her class, and while she's probably a dyke, this'll make us look all progressive."

Zouchouten perused the file. "It says here that she's a former police officer. _Why_ a former one, exactly?"

Koumokuten smirked. "Interesting story there. I asked around, and it turns out she was discharged for assaulting a suspect."

Zouchouten's eyebrows rose. "Is that so? On paper, she doesn't seem like the type."

"Well apparently, her sister was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Some yahoo shot the kid, and Officer Skye went berserk in the courtroom. In front of about a hundred witnesses, she tackled the guy on the witness stand. Needless to say," Koumokuten laughed, "she was relieved of her badge the next day."

Zouchouten sighed. "Poor woman. I assume you've checked the rest of her background?"

"Duh. She's legit."

"Well, send her in then." Zouchouten glanced out the window at a scuffle involving rival high-schoolers across the street, debating whether or not to send someone out to break it up. He had just decided that the varsity jacket-clad jocks could fight it out themselves when his business partner's voice broke into his thoughts: "Come on _in_."

Koumokuten sounded pleased, and as Zouchouten returned his attention to the room, he could tell why. An attractive young woman had just entered, not at all ill at ease. And she looked an awful lot like…

His face broke into a grin as he stood up. "Well. I must say you seem to be in a much better place today."

They shook hands as Koumokuten looked on suspiciously. "What, you know her? How'd that happen?"

"I broke three of your tables about a week ago," Karura told him honestly. "I do feel bad about that."

Koumokuten's face brightened. "Oh yeah, ninja lady. Z tells me you were like some sorta Terminator. I didn't see it myself because I was in the storage room."

_And I'll bet my Harley that you weren't alone,_ Zouchouten thought.

"Well, I say we hire her," Koumokuten continued. "She's got my vote." He smiled at Karura ingratiatingly as Zouchouten sat down behind the desk.

"We haven't even started asking questions yet, Koumokuten. Now, Ms. Skye," Zouchouten nodded at her, "take a seat and we'll get this interview rolling."

As Zouchouten cross-examined Officer Sexy, Koumokuten watched her closely. She held herself with confidence and had a killer body, which she didn't seem very aware of because she was hiding it under a no-nonsense pantsuit. As a man who appreciated tight clothing on attractive women, he felt that this was a real tragedy.

He whiled away the minutes wondering if she really was a lesbian. He had just made the decision that it was his solemn duty, as a red-blooded male, to turn her back to the path of heterosexuality if she was when he realized that Zouchouten had asked him a question.

"Oh, definitely, Z. Yes yes yes."

Zouchouten looked at him like he was a bloodthirsty monster with a still-beating heart in his jaws. "You actually think it's _all right_ to kick a man in the crotch as a first response?" Zouchouten tried to confirm, as Karura seemed a little confused as to why this was a problem.

Koumokuten backpedaled frantically. "Oh hell no, those are the most vital parts of a guy's anatomy! I thought you said she should come get us before it comes to that."

Zouchouten wondered just how "And do you think you should kick a man in the groin immediately? …Koumokuten?" had sounded anything like "Get us before it comes to that, right Koumokuten?", but he let it be. His best friend had obviously been far away in a fantasyland.

Zouchouten nodded. "Yes, she should call us if it gets that bad. Now, Ms. Skye, the position of bouncer requires a certain mindset. Give me an example of…"

The interview went on, Koumokuten paid attention and asked questions, and down on the street, a small boy picked up a scrap of "XXXtremely Naughty Coeds" and asked his mother, "Mommy, what's that lady doing? I wanna not wear pants too!"

Two hours later, Karura shut her apartment door, locked it, then smiled and punched her fist in the air silently, because that was as exuberant as she ever got.

It had gone incredibly well, she thought. Most people would have been intimidated by being put through their paces by two dangerous-looking older men, whose office had a picture of a mushroom cloud with the caption "Who Wants To Annoy Me Next?" But she had always been self-confident, and they'd been surprisingly nice.

For a guy who wore all black and looked like he'd be more at home in a torture chamber, laughing at the top of his lungs, Koumokuten Oeste didn't seem _too_ bad. Sure, the tattoo on his wrist said "SATAN", but he'd wanted to hire her and had pushed for a high starting salary.

Although…she'd seen his type before. She was dead certain she'd have to fend off his advances, hopefully only verbally. Still, maybe he could be reasoned with, and his business partner seemed to be able to keep him in line.

And Zouchouten Southland appeared to be pretty honorable. Despite his near-barbaric appearance, he knew what he was doing and hadn't gotten distracted by some woman yelling outside like his friend had. He'd asked Karura a ton of questions, considered for a while, then nodded firmly and said, "You'll do."

Surprised that they weren't saying something along the lines of "We'll call you, so don't call us", she'd bitten down her astonishment and thanked them profusely for the generous starting pay rate.

Zouchouten had waved it off. "You may not thank us later, Skye. A lot of first-time bouncers never make it past the first week."

Koumokuten had snorted. "Yeah, remember Wally? He only lasted three hours. Weenie."

Karura had kind of wanted to know what had happened to Wally to make him quit that fast, but Zouchouten had frowned at Koumokuten, said "Be here at twelve tomorrow", and politely shown her the door.

She fed Garuda, made herself dinner, and fell asleep on the couch watching a movie she'd seen five times before.

Ten minutes to twelve tomorrow found her sitting outside the office waiting for Koumokuten. She'd been there for half an hour (thankfully the bar was unlocked and a woman with bangles had told her to go right up), and she had already memorized the layout of as much of the bar as she could see.

A bark of "Hanranya, stop playing that Enya shit!" could be heard from downstairs, then Koumokuten appeared, jogging up the steps and looking very surprised to see her.

"Whoa! Skye. Overachiever much?" He unlocked the office and held the door. "Let's get the paperwork started."

Paperwork took over an hour ("Did you bring next of kin information? Oh, good") and even for a former police officer Karura's hand was getting tired. She shook out her wrist and sighed. "Is that all?"

He shook his head. "No, there's way more, but it can wait. Time for the tour. Then you can meet the main players: you know, those of us who spend a ton of time here and have very little else in our lives."

He herded her from one room to the next, answered her questions, and seemed to know a lot. She had just decided that he might not be so bad when he stopped in front of a large, heavy door.

"And _this _is Shangri-la…the storage room." He opened it and she had time to see a ton of stuff before he slammed the door shut again. "Now, if it's locked, don't panic. Somebody's having a quickie."

He chuckled at the slightly disgusted look on her face. "We're all adults here, Skye. Now here," he walked her over to the main room, "is the barroom proper. If somebody asks you for a drink, just tell 'em you're a bouncer, not a waitress, and they _should _back off. If not, holler for Z, or better yet holler for me."

"Well, all right, but I think I can –"

"I think I'd like hearing you scream my name." He gave her a cocky smirk. "Whaddya say, Skye? Storage room's unoccupied."

Karura was appalled. "No."

"Aww, you sure? This about some chick?" Koumokuten ran his tongue over his bottom lip tauntingly, and she rolled her eyes. "Look, I am _not _a lesbi–"

"Then what's the problem?" He was obviously one of those men who thought he was God's gift to women, despite all evidence to the contrary.

"I said 'no'. I meant 'no'. Leave me alone." Karura made sure she was standing in an assertive pose and that her voice brooked no argument. Koumokuten looked like he was about to push it, but then he glanced over at the new tables and nodded.

"Okay then. Z hates office affairs anyway. And here he comes now." Zouchouten was indeed bearing down upon them, followed by four other people including Bangle Woman.

"Hello, Skye. Fed up with paperwork yet?" he smiled, and she nodded fervently. "Well and truly, Mr. Southland."

He shook his head at that. "I insist that you call me by my first name. Everybody does."

"It makes him feel less old," Koumokuten whispered conspiratorially, nodding in a knowing fashion as Bangle Woman giggled.

"Shut it, Koumokuten," Zouchouten snapped. "Skye, this is Hanranya, our head bartender." He indicated the woman next to him. Karura shook Hanranya's hand as the bartender said serenely, "I knew you would get this job. My spirit totem told me so when I saw you yesterday."

"Hanranya," Koumokuten informed Karura, "is a seer." His tone was somewhere between exaggerated respect and sarcasm, but the braceleted woman only noticed the respect. "Yes indeed," she replied, "and I can tell that you, Ms. Skye, are a powerful soul. I think I am right in believing that you were born under Leo?"

"I'm a Virgo, I think," Karura managed as Zouchouten started laughing. Hanranya gave him a stern look.

Before Hanranya could lecture him on respecting "powers beyond the everyday", Zouchouten drew Karura's attention to a man who had just stepped behind the bar. "Here's Varuna, another of our bartenders."

Varuna looked cheerful, if slightly silly with his '80s, wavy forelock hairstyle, complete with headband. He waved at Karura, saying "Ask me for something! C'mon, ask me!"

Zouchouten sighed as Karura cocked her head at the guy's exuberance. "Fine, Varuna. Make me your favorite," the big man said.

"No no, order it!" Varuna was quivering like a sprinter on the starting blocks, and Zouchouten took pity on him. "Bartender, make me a martini with a lemon slice."

"Yes _sir!_"Varuna did an elaborate series of moves to make the drink, then set it theatrically on the counter and twirled a bottle like a baton. "Ta-daa!"

"Yes, that's great, Varuna. You get faster every time." Zouchouten picked up the glass absentmindedly. "Thanks for the extra gin."

Sipping the drink, he nodded towards the most beautiful man Karura had ever seen. "Vahyu here will help you if you have any questions about security."

She blinked in surprise. "You're security?"

Vahyu smirked. "I may be the resident fairy, but I can knock a trucker unconscious without breaking a sweat or a nail."

As Karura stammered an apology, Zouchouten glared at Vahyu. "Just be blunt about it, why don't you."

"Oh, you know me, Zou," Vahyu grinned, vamping theatrically. "I just love that look of shock on their faces."

"And this is Aguni." Karura stared up at a six-foot Amazon in spike heels. Aguni grinned, and Karura half-expected to see sharp teeth. "Hello, new security. I'm the head cook."

"Hello." A cook? She looked like she belonged in a dungeon, wearing spiked leather and whipping a bound man while shouting, "Call me QUEEN!"

"Well, we all know each other now, so let's chat about what you'll be doing," Zouchouten said to Karura. "I think I'll start you out shadowing Vahyu…"

That night was a learning experience for Karura, but she picked things up fast and didn't whine about how hard it was, and managed to take care of problems without needing Zouchouten's, Koumokuten's, or even much of Vahyu's help. The week went by, and she met almost everyone else who worked at the Four Gods, from waitresses to other bouncers to the janitors. And she actually enjoyed her job.

This was not lost on Zouchouten. He watched his new bouncer closely and felt that he had really lucked out: she was capable, polite, intelligent, and sane, which was more than could be said for a lot of his employees. And Koumokuten, really.

_Finally, I'm not alone, _Zouchouten thought thankfully. _Another normal person! _he mentally cheered as he buffed his motorcycle and gave it a kiss, the fact that normal people tended not to do things like that never even occurring to him.

(AN: Koumokuten's pervyness is my own invention, because what's creepier than a perv? Be that as it may, I had a ridiculously fun time writing him. I could just think, "What's the most passive-aggressive, son-of-a-bitch-y, foul-mouthed thing anyone could say or do here?", and more often than not, Koumokuten does it. The more I write him the more I like him in canon, as weird as that is. Don't ask me how it works, because I have no idea.

Oh, and Zouchouten's '82 Harley isn't just _any _'82 Harley. It is in fact a 1982 Harley-Davidson FXB Sturgis, highly sought by collectors. Midlife crisis, Zou? Possibly, but he's had the thing for over a decade.)


	3. Aerial Firework

**Chapter Three: Aerial Firework**

Saturday rolled around and Karura found herself roped into setting up the stage for the band "Gandarajah". Other bands had played the bar, but everybody seemed really excited about this one.

"Their frontwoman's a firecracker," Koumokuten told her when she asked why this was. "Smokin' hot and super energetic. Get her up on stage with a mic and she'll blow the crowd away."

"I'm not a firecracker, I'm a goddamn _aerial firework_," a voice came from behind them, and they both turned to see a woman with her hair done in elaborate loops and wearing a T-shirt that said "ROCKER".

"I'm Kendappa Oh." She smiled at Karura and stuck out a hand cheerfully. "My band and I play here a lot. You must be the new security."

"Karura Skye. Nice to meet you." They shook hands, each of their grips firm, as Koumokuten watched and seemed to be having an enjoyable mental image.

"Skye, I think I hear Z calling you. Run along. I'll help Kendappa with setting things up," he said, smirking. The frowning Karura started to say that she could see Zouchouten and he was talking to a waiter, but Kendappa jumped in with, "Oh, don't mind Koumokuten. He just wants to look at your ass. Stay here and help me get this subwoofer up on stage."

As Koumokuten bridled, Kendappa flipped him off and started lugging the equipment she'd brought with her towards the steps. Karura seized this chance to escape her boss, made sure she was facing him sideways, and helped the musician lift the subwoofer.

"Thanks!" Kendappa chirped, as Koumokuten shook his head regretfully and meandered off to find someone else to harass.

"Is he always like that?" Karura muttered, having set the subwoofer down.

Kendappa nodded matter-of-factly. "Yeah. He once told me he'd like to play my body like a violin, so I told him no and kicked him in the balls to make sure he got the message. Zouchouten yelled at me for being unnecessarily violent, then at him for being a pig, then at the assembled crowd to move along because there was nothing to see, while Koumokuten whined 'Motherfuckin' _Hell' _in an 'Alvin and the Chipmunks' voice."

She smiled at the memory. "Good times."

Karura laughed. "I wish I could have seen that."

Kendappa cocked her head. "Well, you'll see Koumokuten get hit by various women a lot, I'll bet, and you'll also get to see the grand spectacle of a pissed-off Zouchouten before too long, I'm sure."

"Does he yell a lot?" Karura asked seriously. "I'll bet it helps him get his way."

"Actually," Kendappa shrugged, "he usually only yells here. At home he's a big softy."

"That's nice." Karura studied Kendappa, wondering how the other woman knew this about Zouchouten. "Are you two, um –"

"Absolutely _not_," Kendappa assured her firmly. "We're good friends, that's all. I'm _so _not into mature men. Actually, I'm not –"

"Kendappa! How are you?" a pleased voice boomed from below the stage. The musician waved down. "Doin' fine, Zou! How about you?"

He grinned. "Things are good, Kendappa. I see you've met Skye."

"Yep! I like her already!" Kendappa replied happily, picking up a mic, then frowning at it. "Zou, I need a different one. This won't do. Go get me my lucky mic, okay?" she said imperiously.

Karura fully expected a retort of "Get your own lucky mic", but Zouchouten just nodded and turned towards the storage room. Apparently unaware of how odd it was that she had just ordered around a guy whose build resembled that of Arnold Schwarzenegger in his prime, Kendappa winked at Karura. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go put on the rest of my makeup."

She hopped off the stage, whistling a happy tune, then bounded towards the ladies' room without a care in the world.

Karura blinked after her. So _that_ was what a force of nature looked like.

As Kendappa had predicted, Karura got to see Zouchouten's dangerous side in very little time indeed. The next day, in fact.

While seriously asking Vahyu if she should cut people off if they got weepy, Karura was interrupted by shouts of "Fight! Fight!" from the counter. With a "No, they pay for more drinks if you let 'em keep going when sad," Vahyu hurried towards the quickly-assembled crowd.

Karura followed at a run, pushing through the spectators to find Betty, one of the waitresses, having just smacked a man and in danger of being slapped herself. As Vahyu went for the drunken patron, Karura pulled Betty away.

"What happened?" she asked the teary-eyed waitress, who was new and actually fairly shy.

"He made a lewd suggestion and grabbed for my chest!" Betty hissed. "And his friend egged him on!"

Karura glared at the man Vahyu had in a headlock on the bar. "Did he now?"

"What's going on here?" Koumokuten and Zouchouten had just appeared, the crowd stepping back to let them pass, thanks in no small part to Koumokuten's use of controlled kicks to make people step aside.

"He tried to grope me!" Betty snapped, pointing at the patron who'd almost hit her.

Koumokuten nodded, glancing at Zouchouten. "You wanna take this one?"

"Sure." The bigger man stomped forwards as Koumokuten stepped back to watch the fun, smiling like a Roman spectator at the Coliseum.

"Get out. I won't tolerate people harassing my employees," Zouchouten informed the man in a headlock.

The guy just sneered. "Dude, she was totally comin' on to me!"

As Betty clenched a fist and had to be held back by Karura, the wingman said snarkily, "She was. Don't you believe him? Look at how she dresses, she's _totally –_"

"Out. Now," Zouchouten ordered.

Vahyu smiled. "I'd recommend obeying him," he said to the first guy conversationally. "I really would."

Pickup Artist Number One ignored this helpful hint. "Look, if you can't handle people hitting on your hired help, you should have some sorta dress code." Betty, in reality, was wearing a skirt and rather tight t-shirt yes, but not to a "Look at my boobs and legs!" extent.

"I told you to leave," Zouchouten rumbled, crossing his arms. "Do it!" he barked.

But the second man sat back down emphatically. "What, you gonna have Liberace here throw us out? I think not."

Without a word Zouchouten uncrossed his arms, stepped forward, and picked the man up by his shirt collar.

"Whoa! Bill, help!" the guy shrieked, flailing his arms frantically as Zouchouten carried him one-handed over to the door by his shirt. He tossed him easily out as Bill's jaw dropped.

As the first guy hit the pavement, Zouchouten turned back and looked at Bill, who was trying to hide behind a stool. "Are you going to get out, or do I have to make an example of you as well?" he asked him, annoyed voice carrying easily over the space between them.

Bill's hand started to move towards his jacket pocket, and Karura grabbed it and bent it backwards. "Don't be stupid," she snapped as Zouchouten stalked forward once more, a Panzer on the battlefield of rapidly-backing-away patrons.

"I was just going for my inhaler!" Bill lied, terrified. "I'm an asthmatic! Stress gives me an attack! Don't let him pick me up!" he babbled as Zouchouten got closer. "I'm leaving! I'm leaving right now!"

After pulling his wrist from Karura's grasp Bill raced for the door, giving Zouchouten a wide berth, and ran out of the bar never to return. Koumokuten watched him go, shaking his head. "Dumbass," he chuckled. "Shoulda listened to Vahyu."

"I give good advice," Vahyu preened. "It's always so sad when they don't listen…"

When Karura came back home that night (or rather, that early morning) she flipped her phone open and dutifully checked for messages, which she sometimes forgot to do. Since her mother had died years ago, her father had driven his car off a cliff at the loss of her little sister Karyoubinga, and her aunt was off on a Caribbean cruise and was having too much fun to call anyone back home, she was very surprised to find that she had one new message.

She pressed play and listened. "Hey Karura, it's Gigei. I've got some bad news – well, actually, you'll probably think it's good news, but it could be bad…oh heck, just gimme a call, okay?"

Karura cocked her head, confused. Gigei was one of those happy-go-lucky people who literally danced through life, and despite their differences in personality, she and Karura had hit it off at once. The wife of a strapping young policeman, Gigei had her finger on the pulse of the entire station and loved to gossip, even though Karura hated it.

_What does she mean, "good but could be bad"? _Karura sighed in confusion and dialed Gigei's home phone.

The dancer answered on the second ring; she kept weird hours. "Hey, it's my favorite former policewoman! How are you, Karura?"

"I'm actually doing better now Gigei, thank you. I'm returning your call about the news you had to tell me."

"Oh. Um. Y'know, I don't know how to best put this…"

"Just tell it like it is," Karura requested, and the other woman sighed. "Okay, here it is: Deva Grounding's dead. You know, the guy who shot Karyou."

Karura nearly dropped her phone. Instead she smiled, a rictus grin, and replied, "That is the best news I've ever heard, Gigei. Please tell me his fellow inmates killed him in an agonizingly painful way."

"No. He hung himself."

Karura was a bit disappointed that her sister's killer had had the chance to die on his own terms while Karyou hadn't. But a dead murderer was a dead murderer, so she asked, "And this is bad how?"

"Because there's something else. He may have killed himself, but his lawyer said he kept looking over his shoulder and asking for protective custody. His cellmate said he'd woken up the night before he checked out from Hotel Existence, screaming something about being pushed down an elevator shaft." Gigei paused meaningfully. "An _elevator shaft,_ Karura."

Her words did not have the effect she'd been hoping for. "A lot of people are claustrophobic, Gigei, and –"

"No, no! Remember that call you responded to a week before it all went down? The one where a mid-level manager at Zenmi Industries fell down an elevator shaft to his death?"

Karura did recall that particular call. She'd thought it rather odd that the man had just walked out into space, as he'd just been promoted and gotten married. She'd asked a number of questions and had been about to suggest to the supervising detective that it had been a murder of some sort, but then Karyou had died and she'd forgotten all about it.

Hmm…she'd forgotten all about it. No one had been charged and the death had stayed on the books as an unfortunate accident. That _was_ a very big coincidence –

_That's stupid, _Karura told herself firmly. Nobody would take her sister out just to get her to back off about a possible suicide, would they?

Actually, some people probably would, she realized. Some people might not want to take the slightest chance of her figuring it out. Still, it was a long shot.

"Yes, I do remember," she finally told Gigei. "I remember now."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

"Well, I have to go, Karura. Don't do anything rash, okay?" Gigei said, sounding concerned.

"I won't. Bye, Gigei. Tell Ricardo 'hi' from me."

Karura hung up, then stared at her refrigerator, which happened to be in her line of sight. Despite the overwhelming chances of this being just what it seemed, an accident and a random shooting, she couldn't shake the sense that there was something more.

Seizing on any hope that she could make someone pay for what had happened to Karyou, Karura didn't sleep. She spent the rest of the night mulling things over, and made, in the end, a rash decision.

The morning after that found Karura, on her day off, standing in the expensive lobby of the Zenmi Industries skyscraper and trying to convince the security that she had a right to be there.

"Look," she said to Guard Number One, "I helped investigate Jonathon Burkowitz-Jones's death. You have to remember me, Drew! You showed me where the body was found, remember? And you said it was your girlfriend's birthday, and asked me what flowers I thought she'd like, because being in a florist's shop makes you sneeze and you were ordering them online."

Drew wasn't buying it. "Officer Whatever-Your-Name-Is, personal calls to Ms. North will not be tolerated unless you have an appointment. You don't, and I can't help but notice that you have no badge with you."

"Yeah," his partner said. "How do we know you're not some assassin from a rival corporation or something?" He reached for his gun.

As Drew told his overenthusiastic partner that that particular scenario was not very likely, Karura thought desperately for another excuse.

"Something the matter, gentlemen?" a cultured, male voice came from behind her. At the guards' wide-eyed looks, Karura turned around to see an Armani-clad man, his startlingly red hair pulled back in a ponytail, smiling at her with perfect teeth.

"Mr. Bishamonten, sir!" Drew saluted smartly. "This woman says she wants to see Kisshou– Ms. North," he amended.

Mr. Bishamonten studied her. "And why would that be, miss?"

"She told me she'd be happy to see me once, sir," Karura said honestly. The CEO of Zenmi Industries had indeed extended an invitation of "Let's have lunch sometime" to the officers who'd responded to the Burkowitz-Jones call.

He laughed, classy and elegantly amused. "That doesn't surprise me. She tends to do things like that." He nodded to the security. "Let her in. I'll take her to Kisshouten myself."

Looking as if they'd like nothing better than to bow and kiss the floor at his feet, they obeyed, handing Karura a visitor's pass.

Thanking her savior politely, Karura followed him to the elevator. He motioned for her to go in first and pressed the button for the highest floor. "Are you a vice president, Mr. Bishamonten?" she asked as the elevator rose so quickly she felt a little sick.

He smiled. "Oh no, miss. I'm a major shareholder, but not an executive. And it's actually 'Mr. North'. Kisshouten is my wife," he informed her casually.

"Oh. Thank you so much for letting me in," she responded, marveling at her good luck.

"Of course. Kisshouten spends so much time at work that she has few friends. A distraction from the cutthroat world of business will be good for her." He watched the numbers for different floors flash by on the screen. "And what might your name –"

The ring of a cell phone cut him off before she could answer. Taking it out of his pocket and answering it, Bishamonten smiled. "Ah, King. Yes, things are fine…"

The doors to the elevator opened to reveal a desk presided over by a severe-looking older lady. Karura stepped out and held the door for Bishamonten, who hadn't moved. He shook his head at her, told the person on the other line "Just a second", and whispered, "Go on in. I've decided I need to go back down. No no, Taishakuten, it's fine…" he was saying as Karura let the doors close and stepped towards his wife's secretary.

"Do you have an appointment, miss?" the battle-ax guarding the CEO's office demanded.

"Mr. North said I could go right in," Karura told her, indicating the elevator doors.

The other woman shook her head. "I don't trust the people that man brings in. Hasn't he taken enough from Ms. Kisshouten?" she asked, scowling as Karura blinked, wondering why the secretary seemed to hate Bishamonten North.

As a door opened down the hall Karura tried, "No, he only brought me up because I forgot my ID and security wouldn't let me in. I've never met him before in my life."

The scarier-than-Drew's-triggerhappy-partner barrier to Karura's goal wasn't convinced. "If you aren't in my appointment book, you're not getting in. Ms. North has an appointment soon, and _you _are going to turn right back around and –"

"Cancel my appointment, Sylvia."

Karura looked up to see one of the most elegant creatures on the planet.

Kisshouten North could have made a ton of money as a supermodel fifteen years ago, but designers would have been crying and offering up their firstborn children to dress her now. With limpid eyes, flawless pale skin, an elongated killer figure held with enough poise for an entire royal court and masses of luxurious black hair, the Zenmi Industries CEO commanded everyone's attention and was the quintessential attractive mature woman.

"Hello," the CEO smiled. "Officer Skye, isn't it? You responded to poor Jonathon's death."

Instead of lying and saying, "Yes, and I have to ask you a couple more questions" like she'd intended to, Karura found herself replying, "It's just 'Ms. Skye' now, ma'am. I'm surprised you remembered who I am. I was hoping you could help me."

As Sylvia took in an offended breath, Kisshouten nodded, turned, and said, "Let's go into my office, Ms. Skye."

_She must really be lonely, like her husband said, _Karura thought as they passed a huge oil portrait of "Our Founder: Tentei Zenmi, 1934-2000." She had time to think that his daughter must resemble her mother before Kisshouten opened the door at the end of the hallway.

The huge penthouse office revealed had an entire wall of windows, numerous business awards, and, Karura was startled to see, a blown-up photo of Kisshouten shaking hands with Opera Winfrey. _Neat…someday __I'd__ like to meet Opera._

Kisshouten noticed the other woman's admiring gaze and smiled once more. "I'm quite involved in a number of worthy causes, Ms. Skye."

Slightly uncomfortable in the presence of a representative of the wealthy business class, Karura swallowed down her nerves and took a seat as Kisshouten settled behind her desk. "Thank you for seeing me, Ms. North, I –"

"You can call me Kisshouten," the CEO informed her. "Really, I don't bite."

The younger dynamo smiled. "All right, Kisshouten. And I'm Karura."

"So, Karura…" Kisshouten folded her hands on her desk, "what can I do for you?"

"I have some questions about Jonathon Burkowitz-Jones's death. According to what you told me earlier, he was a friend of yours."

"Yes." Kisshouten's gaze turned sad. "I liked him a lot. He was a good man."

Karura studied her, and took a gamble. "Kisshouten, I have to ask you: was he having, perhaps, an affair, a –"

"No, and certainly not with _me_," Kisshouten said firmly. "I would _never _cheat on my husband."

As Karura flushed and mumbled an apology, Kisshouten's thoughts added, _But it didn't save him. Bishamonten thought Jonathon loved me, and that was it…down the elevator shaft he went._

She bit her lip and answered Karura's other questions on autopilot, rehearsed answers so no one would ever know what her spouse had had done.

She hated doing it, but what else could she do? Covering up Bishamonten's actions was practically in her job description by now. His voice rang in her head: _"You do what I tell you to. I'm in charge, not you, and for all you own this company I control it. Would you rather die, Kisshouten? I can do that…"_

"I know you can," she muttered, and Karura looked at her, confused. "What?"

"Er…" Kisshouten floundered; she couldn't recall the question. "I'm sorry, my mind was hundreds of miles away. Forgive my rudeness."

Karura paused. A rather skilled verbal interrogator, she was getting the sense that Kisshouten was hiding something. She tried a shock tactic. "Does your husband have affairs?"

It didn't work. "Good heavens no –" _yes of course he does _"– Bishamonten and I are very much in love." _I hate him and he thinks it's amusing._

Karura paused again. Her subconscious, finely attuned to details, had noticed that that were, despite many photographs of Kisshouten's father and various friends, no images of Bishamonten. And there was nothing on the desk. Perhaps the CEO's desktop computer background was a picture of her husband, but it seemed odd.

Then of course there had been that extremely obvious comment the secretary had made. And the looks of what Karura had thought was respect but could have been fear the downstairs security had given him. And there, on Kisshouten's cheek and skillfully hidden by makeup, was what might well be a bruise.

Karura had dealt with battered women before, and while many people would have scoffed at the idea that such a powerful female could be one, the sad fact was that it happened to many of them. No matter how low or high in the social order, it happened far too often.

Forgetting her questions about Burkowitz-Jones's death for now, Karura leaned forward. "Kisshouten, you know, you don't have to stay with him."

"I don't know why you would say such a thing." But the sentence, intended to be delivered in anger, came out as full of self-hate and shame. Sylvia had an idea, Bishamonten's associates of course knew, but this was the first time someone had told Kisshouten to her face that they were aware of what he was.

_But she's not, how can she be? She just sees an abusive husband, not…_

She forced herself to say, "My husband loves me very much. Don't insult us by suggesting otherwise."

Karura stared helplessly, desperate to reach a terrorized soul. "Look, he may use your feelings against you and tell you he does, but –"

_Oh, he hasn't bothered to lie like that for years. _

"– someone who really loves you would never hurt you." Karura pulled out a sticky note and scribbled a number on it. "This is an agency that –"

"Don't," Kisshouten ordered. "Stop that. Now _why _are you here?"

The white-haired woman sighed. "My sister was killed. I thought it might be because of what happened here."

"Oh." Kisshouten's gaze softened. "I'm very sorry."

Karura noticed that she hadn't added "to hear that." She gave Kisshouten a sad, appraising look. "Thank you. It wasn't _your_ fault."

_Was it?_

Her gut said "no." Karura never told other law enforcers this, but her gut had never led her wrong. She had wasted a lot of time trying to ignore her instincts, and yes, sometimes she hadn't been exactly right, but here…Kisshouten was lying about her relationship with Bishamonten, but she hadn't had Karyoubinga killed.

Karura stood up. "Thank you for your time." She headed for the door, then paused. "There are people who can help you, Kisshouten."

And after sticking the note on the door, she was gone. _Now I have nothing again…well, maybe that bastard Grounding's former associates can help me. _

As Karura decided to find out more about her sister's killer's life, Kisshouten stared into space.

In the beginning, she'd been warned. Her father's instincts had screamed at him whenever he'd seen Bishamonten, but she'd disregarded it as overprotectiveness for his only daughter. After all, she'd spent her entire life too driven to succeed and being so confident that most men never even thought they'd have a chance with her.

Bishamonten had been charming, persuasive, and very dedicated, telling her everything she'd wanted to hear and playing her heart like a maestro. He'd even told her that he wouldn't sleep with her unless they were married ("You deserve roses and romance, my dear"), so of course she'd said yes when he'd bought her a stunning engagement ring and proposed on bended knee in a crowded restaurant.

She should have realized something was wrong when her father died of a sudden heart failure, she thought bitterly. But she'd been so wracked with loss that she hadn't read the prenup her fiancé insisted she sign ("It's only for your protection, darling. Just a formality. I'd never do anything to hurt you") and completely missed the flash of triumph on his face when she did so mechanically. _Stupid!_

She'd married him in Hawai'i the month of her father's funeral, with cameras flashing and the press having a field day about the healing power of love. He'd carried her into the honeymoon cottage, locked the door, and then, with sadistic enjoyment, informed her that she'd made the biggest mistake of her life.

"You should have listened to Tentei, Kisshouten. It's too late now, though. That prenup is ironclad, and if you try to annul this marriage I will tell everyone who ever looked up to you what a stupid whore you are for falling for me."

She'd gaped at him, fully convinced that she'd slipped and hit her head, and would wake up any second with paramedics looking down at her. "Bishamonten, what are you saying?"

"What I'm _saying, _my dear spouse, is that I was after your assets this entire time. Your business, which I now own the overwhelming majority of shares in, is going to provide much-needed cover and legitimacy to my boss Taishakuten. You have signed over your life in your grief, because your father got in the way and had to be taken care of. But you were too busy mooning over fantasies of my cock to notice."

He'd given her a smile so evil she'd shrunk back in fear, taking slow, deliberate steps towards her trembling form. "I have put up with a lot of sentimental idiocy from you, and now…" he'd pinned her then, "you are going to give me what I want."

At first he'd controlled her through sheer shock and the desperate hope that he loved her in some way, but it had quickly passed to fear. She'd noticed, one morning on the beach, another honeymooner looking at her with compassion on his face. "Ma'am, do you need help?" he'd asked her honestly.

She'd almost replied with "Get me _out _of here," but Bishamonten had come over, smiled at her with steely eyes, and said, "Go on back in the cottage, sweetheart. Other men should never look at _my _wife."

Two hours later, the man who'd tried to help had tragically fallen off a cliff.

And so they'd returned to Tenkai City, Kisshouten's spirit completely broken, and she'd thrown herself into her work because that was all she'd ever done. She spent so much time at the office that she had a room made up just so she could sleep there, and Bishamonten let her because it was amusing to him.

He had her on a choke chain, and she'd learned to live with it because she thought she deserved it for being so stupid.

Down in the lobby, Bishamonten watched Karura exit the building, and smirked. _I really had hoped to take her in the elevator. It would have provided entertainment on this otherwise monotonous day. _

He sighed and turned off his phone. Taishakuten wanted him to send a message to a rival gang leader. _Oh well…duty calls, and all that…_

Bishamonten thought he might take out the man's children himself, as substitute entertainment.

(AN: Quite obviously, I think Bishamonten's a nasty piece of work (but for some odd reason I like him). And no, I don't for a second buy the plot twists CLAMP gave him and Kisshouten in Volumes 9 and 10. The idea of him nobly leaving the wife he forced to marry him alone made no sense _whatsoever, _given his character. And if he didn't, there was totally some sexual abuse going on, and why the heck would Kisshouten fall in love with a man who did that to her?

Also quite obviously, I feel very sorry for Kisshouten. I absolutely love_ her_, and thought it was a real pity she didn't get much pagetime. We'll see rather a lot of her here, later. She's got an important role to play, and a few lessons to learn. We'll also see an awful lot of her bastard husband, being, well, a bastard. A badass, rather elegant one, though.

Oh, and I know Oprah's name isn't spelled "Opera". It was a bit of parody. There are a couple other small parodies of popular culture to come as well.)


	4. Socialization Time

**Chapter Four: Socialization Time**

Two weeks later, Zouchouten was starting to worry that his new security was a workaholic. Karura showed up early, left late, and only wanted one ten-minute break per night, which he'd had to practically force her to take many days.

When Koumokuten pointed out, in the overly patient tones of a man explaining something to a stubborn toddler, that Zouchouten never took a damn breather and was wound so tightly he'd spontaneously combust one day, Zouchouten yelled at him royally. He then made Karura take two fifteen-minute breaks to prove…well, _something_, he wasn't sure what.

Anyway, she worked hard. Too hard. She didn't make many mistakes and she always seemed alert, but as someone whose other employees and business partner were constantly trying to get extra time off, Zouchouten was rather confused by this.

Perhaps she was like him: able to get by on little sleep and so used to dealing with things that she felt strange just sitting around. And, he had to admit, her attitude was better than anyone else's, even his. …Especially his, really.

He had once heard an employee refer to him as "Crabby Boss". His subsequent looming appearance behind the speaker's back had made her squeak something about an old manager of hers, and because he didn't want to _be _Crabby Boss, he had smiled and nodded and pretended to believe her.

Still, although it _was_ better then being known as "Old Guy Boss", he didn't like being told he had a problem; in that respect he was like ninety-four percent of humanity.

_I suppose I should be glad I'm not "Scary Boss", because Koumokuten cornered the market on that one, _he thought dubiously.

Koumokuten… perverted, condescending, slightly psycho and rude as all get-out, the ponytailed man was Zouchouten's best friend and had been for twenty years. Koumokuten had come up with the cash for the Four Gods nineteen years ago and told his buddy, "Z, let's build that damn bar we've been talking about. I mean, c'mon, what else are you gonna do with your life?"

Zouchouten had grinned then. "Beats another Army tour."

Koumokuten had laughed and clinked his glass against his friend's. "Hell yeah. Don't want you getting killed, Corporal."

And it was a _nice _bar. By all rights they could have called it a club, and while they might have made more money if they had, Zouchouten had been adamant that he was not going to be a nightclub owner. Bar owner, he had proclaimed, was manly and badass, but nightclub owner sounded sleazy.

Koumokuten had shrugged, taken another drag of his cigarette, and given in.

And they'd actually made quite a bit of money. Koumokuten had bought a succession of fast cars and dated another succession of women. Then he'd paid child support to one and dated even more of them. Zouchouten himself had bought his beloved motorcycle, then put the rest in the bank and sent Koumokuten's daughter Tamara a teddy bear, and checked up on her to make sure she was doing okay.

Zouchouten sometimes thought Koumokuten's womanizing was getting out of hand. Koumokuten thought Zouchouten needed to learn how to have fun. He'd introduced his best friend to such quality women as Candy, Tawnee, and Lindi, and had been rather surprised when Zouchouten had told him to knock it off.

"Z, I know you're all about responsibility, but damn. Take off the edge, huh?"

The bigger man had smacked him on the back, rather harder than necessary. "Oh, this place is my life. No time for a girlfriend anymore."

Koumokuten had lit a cigarette and chuckled, "Who said anything about a girlfriend?"

Yet despite Koumokuten's male chauvinist ways, Zouchouten liked him. Koumokuten was smart, he could be very fun, and he didn't put up with any bullshit from anyone. He'd once told an entire gang of armed hoodlums, "Look, you can shoot each other all you want in your little alley, but if you bring guns in here again I'll make sure it's the last thing you ever do."

He'd given them a feral grin, made some sort of esoteric gang taunting sign, and finished with, "So get outta here."

And they had.

And Zouchouten and Koumokuten, for all they were so different in some ways, liked and respected each other. Sure, they argued. Sure, each of them thought the other was a dolt in a few areas. Sure, there was the constant struggle of laidback versus driven.

But they were best friends. They'd punched each other, and sniped at each other, and Koumokuten had once substituted salt for sugar in Zouchouten's coffee (and Zouchouten had hurled it at him after tasting it), but they were bonded now.

Zouchouten was well aware that Koumokuten would never win any awards for helping the world, as he disliked most other human beings and let everyone know it. But he was nice enough to a few people (and animals) in his own way; he'd even once taken in a stray cat for the night and moped around when she died, six years later.

For all he was a bastard many places, he let his guard down somewhat with his best friend. Occasionally, anyway. Nobody could be a son of a bitch constantly, Zouchouten grinned to himself.

They'd probably wind up in the same nursing home, Zouchouten because he had no living family, and Koumokuten a couple years later because his daughter would stick him there. They'd play checkers and watch game shows and reminisce about the time Koumokuten had picked his friend's lock and TP'd his living room, then hidden behind the door and hollered, "Thanks for forgetting my birthday, motherfucker!" as Zouchouten stared in shock.

He sighed, coming back to the present. His own birthday had been last month and he'd not enjoyed it. He knew he was getting older, and he hated that fact. He was the oldest person at the Four Gods, and the bouncers, he thought, watching Karura wave to Hanranya and leave early because he'd made her, were just getting younger.

Well, okay, some of the waitresses were twenty-one, but still. Skye was twenty-six, and even Vahyu was twenty-eight.

Shaking his head, Zouchouten climbed the stairs and went into the office. Koumokuten wasn't there today. He always had Wednesday off, and he was probably out –

And then Zouchouten's eye fell on something on the floor. Somebody's wallet, probably belonging to one of the employees. He picked it up and opened it, looking for the ID, and the first thing he found was a picture of a white-haired, blue-eyed little girl.

He studied it: she looked like Karura. He pulled out a card, and yes, this did indeed belong to Karura R. Skye.

He put the card back and closed the wallet, thinking. The girl in the picture was probably her dead sister. No doubt Skye would be very upset when she found her wallet missing.

He found her number written down, pulled out his phone, and dialed it, only to find that nobody was answering. He left a message and stuck her wallet in his pocket. When she called him back, he could assure her that it was safe.

He wandered downstairs again. Maybe he should get some food, before he went home to leftovers.

Aguni was hacking at something in the kitchen, singing loudly. "I am woman, hear me _roar!_"

"Uh…" He cleared his throat to make sure she was aware of his presence before she started doing that samurai sushi thing with her knives.

She brandished a large cleaver happily. "Hi, Zouchouten. Something you need?" She brought it down on the hapless cutting board before her, severing the defenseless joint of meat there into two perfect halves.

_Why do the "Psycho" violins always play in my head when I come into this room?_ He shook if off. "Hey, Aguni. Anything left over?"

The head cook nodded to the refrigerator. "Well, there's some steak. Just a little, but I thought somebody might want it. After all," she slammed the cleaver down again, making him wince, "I made it and it's damn good."

This was not empty bragging, because Aguni had a gift for food preparation. They'd hired her five years ago and she hadn't disappointed in the least. Zouchouten sometimes wondered why she stayed here in a bar, but was always a little afraid to ask because she was _scary. _Sure, she was nice enough to him, but he still thought she might be a little unbalanced.

He helped himself to the steak, tried calling Karura again, and got no answer, just like the last time.

He finished his food, put the plate in the sink, and did the same thing with the same result. So he left Aguni chopping up chicken for tomorrow with disturbing enthusiasm and went back to closing up.

By the time everyone was ready to leave, he'd called one more time, and still nothing. He sighed as he put his helmet on, straddling his bike. It was too late to do it tonight, but in the morning he'd drop Skye's wallet off at her residence. It might be safe enough here in the locked office, but then she'd have to wait until either he or Koumokuten was here to unlock it.

Nope…better to give it to her as soon as possible.

And so, at nine o'clock the next morning, Zouchouten put the kickstand down on his Harley and strolled up to the Castle in the Heavens Apartment Complex (No Solicitations). He opened the outer door and was studying the directory when a teenage boy bounced up from the street, carrying a Playstation. The kid smiled at him, swiped a key card through the second door, and almost dropped his gaming platform.

"Dude, hold the door for me, wouldja? Thanks," he said cheerfully as Zouchouten obeyed.

Running up the stairs with his earbuds blaring, Gamer Guy didn't even bother to try to pull the door closed behind him. Zouchouten let it go, thinking that the entire building was going to get robbed one day. Then he suddenly stuck his foot in the door, having decided that this was a sign and since he wasn't about to steal anything, nobody could yell at him. Besides, Skye might not even answer the page, as she hadn't answered her phone and he'd tried calling her eight times now.

As Zouchouten was stepping into the elevator downstairs, having committed his little misdemeanor, Karura was spending quality time with her cockatoo on the sixth floor.

"It's funny," she told Garuda as she tickled his head, "but it's easier than being a cop, in some ways. Sure, I get people not taking me seriously, but like Vahyu says, the look on their faces is priceless when they see I mean business."

She looked down. "Garuda, sweetie, that's my finger. Stop tasting it."

"Peanut?" Garuda tried, looking at his human with soulful eyes. She laughed and snuggled him. "No, honey. Because otherwise you'll get spoiled and they won't work for training." She stroked his back feathers. "Can you say 'no peanut'?"

"No! Peanut!" Garuda cried in frustration, and she laughed. "Well, I suppose that's –" A sudden knock cut her off.

Out in the hallway, Zouchouten studied the door with wariness. This was the correct number, right?

Then he heard a familiar voice on the other side. "Baby, Mommy has to go answer the door, okay? Here, I'll turn on Sesame Street for you." The sounds of Big Bird and Mr. Snuffleupagus could suddenly be heard, and he did a double take.

A single mother? He hadn't picked up on that.

Karura opened the door, her eyes widening. "Oh! Hello, Zouchouten." She gazed at him with something like suspicion. "Is there a problem?"

_Great, now she thinks I'm a stalker._ "Well, yeah. You left your wallet in the office, and your phone was turned off. Here." He extended her wallet to her. "I figured you might need it."

"Oh! I hadn't even realized it was gone! Thank you." She took it from him, smiling. "Would you like something? I feel bad making you come all this way, just to –"

"No no, it's fine, really. If you got arrested for driving without a license I would've been out a bouncer for tonight, and I couldn't let that happen," he quipped, trying to put her at ease. He glanced behind her. "I didn't know you had a little one."

Her face lit up. "Do you want to meet him? I'm trying to keep him socialized. He loves people."

"Sure. I love kids."

She laughed. "No, he's a cockatoo. I'm not even married." She turned, and he could clearly see a large white bird bobbing its head happily as Bert and Ernie sang about socks. For some reason, Zouchouten felt immensely relieved.

"What's his name?" he asked as they moved towards the table where the bird perched.

"His name is Garuda." Karura turned off the TV, and Garuda looked at her indignantly. "Sesame!" he complained. "Sesame! Sesame!"

"No. No more Sesame Street, sweetheart. Socialization time now." She held out a hand and Garuda obediently hopped up. Holding him out to look at her visitor, she said, "Garuda, this is Zouchouten, one of my bosses."

The cockatoo tried out the unfamiliar syllables. "Z'ch'den?"

"Yes, Zou-chou-ten. We _like _Zouchouten."

The man in question felt rather honored. "Does he talk a lot?"

"Yes, he says things like his own name and my name and 'good' and 'bad' and 'peanut', and he loves to learn. Of course," she smiled, "I have to watch what I say around him unless I want him saying something like 'eff it' because it's a new sound."

Garuda studied this new, very large human-thing, and flapped his wings happily. "Good!" he squawked, excited now and having forgotten the loss of his favorite educational programming.

"Yes. _Good _Garuda." She smiled at Zouchouten. "You can pet him, if you want. He's used to being touched."

"Okay." Zouchouten reached out a hand and stroked Garuda gently, and Karura positively beamed. "He likes you. That's excellent," she enthused.

He was a little confused. "I thought you said he loves people."

"Well, usually. He hated the last man he saw in here with a passion as soon as he laid eyes on him," she told him seriously.

Zouchouten nodded. "Oh. Overprotective and hates your boyfriends, huh? My cousin once had a collie who –"

"Oh no, he wasn't my boyfriend, he was the handyman. My dishwasher broke," she hastened to assure him. "But he _is _slightly overprotective. That's one reason why I try to socialize him. Plus, he just _loves _the twins down the hall."

It occurred to Karura then that the seven-year-old kids from down the hall had been a very different experience for Garuda than the dishwasher guy. After all, _they_ had not tried to kiss his human and had their crotches kneed, before being told to get the hell out of her apartment before she took out a restraining order.

So Garuda's instincts had been right. She made a mental note to pay more attention to them. The fact that the cockatoo was _not _screeching at her boss now made her think that he was perfectly safe, and should be given a can of soda or something in thanks.

But when she offered him one, Zouchouten just smiled and said, "Thanks, but I've got to be going. I have to pick up my car from the repair shop."

He turned to go, waving a hand nonchalantly. "See you at work tonight, Skye. Bye, Garuda."

And then he opened the door and walked out into the hallway, as Garuda burbled "Z'ch'den!" after him.

Karura decided that since he'd been so good, her pet deserved a peanut. "Good Garuda. Time for a treat."

"Peanut!"

"Honey, I'm home!" Kumaraten Hades yelled happily, taking off his jacket and putting down his briefcase, looking just like a Norman Rockwell husband back from a productive day at the office making America thrive. Well, minus the hat because he hated them, and with longer hair.

"Welcome back, darling. How was work?" He turned at the sound of his wife's voice, and grinned. While Kahra's words had been pure 1950s housewife, her attire was anything but. She leaned onto a doorjamb, wearing his anniversary gift from last week and a naughty smile that was even sexier than the lingerie. His gaze traveled down her body appreciatively, then back up again with equal enjoyment.

_This makes up for the explosion during the remedial class. Oh yes, it does indeed. I am a man who has won the lottery of life, and Seiryuu Pendragon can be a bonehead all he wants because my wife loves me, and is having my child, and will be the best mother in the whole damn world._

He stepped towards her, loosening his tie. And then the phone rang.

Kahra immediately ran over to it, leaving him with an expression of desperation on his face. "Lovekins, no, let the machine get it, or yank it out of the wall, but _don't –_"

Too late. She'd answered it. "Hello? …Oh, Yasha! Thanks for calling back!"

Kumaraten had a sudden, violent fantasy of planting ammonia in a closed, heated system in Yama's desk. The man had to be made to pay for this. Oblivious to her husband's murderous desires, Kahra was asking Yasha, "How's Ashura? Did his show-and-tell go well?"

Kumaraten smiled slightly. Yama's son adored Kahra; she was like an aunt to him. And she adored him too, for reasons he himself didn't fully get. The kid was cute, and yeah, he was loving, but the chemist thought at times that he was annoying.

His wife found Ashura the sweetest surrogate son-slash-friend ever, and she talked to him for hours, played with him, and was probably the closest thing to a mother the little boy would ever get.

That was just the kind of person Kahra was. She mothered the neighbor kids, she mothered her great-aunt, and she would have mothered hobos on the street if Kumaraten hadn't stopped her. And even so, when they'd been engaged and he'd said, "You know, I don't really like kids", she'd been willing to put off her own instincts because she loved him so damn much.

And because he loved _her _so damn much, he'd made the decision that he could handle a child for her sake. Surprisingly, the more he'd thought about it, he'd come to find that the idea of a crying, helpless little parasite actually sounded kind of attractive. Now that she'd finally gotten pregnant, he was reading books with titles such as Fathering For Complete And Utter Morons and What To Do When Baby Turns Into A Surly Teenager, and liking them better than Chemical Engineering Through The Ages.

Dear lord, he'd made a complete one-eighty…and he was happy about that.

Yes, their child, who would be named either Jennifer Kahra Hades or Vincent Kumaraten Hades, would be doted on by both parents. Kumaraten would teach the little one about science and being assertive, and Kahra would teach them about being nice and mythology, her own area of expertise. They'd be a happy little nuclear family, and if Yasha Yama asked nicely he could teach Jenny or Vinny about reading.

But only if he got off the phone now, dammit.

Kumaraten mouthed "Hang up" to Kahra, but she didn't notice. He waved his hand to get her attention, then did it again.

"Hold on, Yasha," she said into the phone. "Kumaraten's mouthing something and making slashing motions. No, no it's okay, I want to hear about –"

Kumaraten grabbed the phone, snapped, "Bye Yama. You won't get to teach them to read," and hung up as Yasha asked "Huh?"

Kumaraten victoriously placed the receiver back in its charger. Ha. He'd _won_.

He turned to Kahra. "Sweetheart, Yama can handle Ashura. Now…before he called, I think we were about to engage in marital activities?"

She sighed, then smiled. "Yes, Kumaraten. I love you."

Oh yes indeed, Kumaraten decided five minutes later, despite it all, he'd won life's jackpot.

(AN: For those of you who are _not _chemical engineers, ammonia in a closed heated system will explode, with poisonous, flammable gases. My father, who _is _a chemical engineer, still tells the story of a senior researcher at his company who accidentally blew up a lab with just those ingredients. (In case you were wondering, it was at night and nobody was hurt. The guy had left it on and gone home.)

I should point out that in this AU Kahra and Ashura are not related, nor are Shashi and Ashura. More on that when we meet Shashi.

I realize that Kahra and Kumaraten's relationship in canon was definitely not all terms of endearment and sugary light. It was actually rather…dark. Still, I thought they deserved some happiness, so here they're head-over-heels, although Kumaraten is snarky to Yasha and doesn't like Ashura nearly as much as Kahra does.

And guess what: starting in the next chapter, we get Kujaku, Kujaku, and more Kujaku! Prepare for more humor, espionage, and a new perspective. We'll also meet a character I quite like who has evil parents, but is such a sweet guy you can't help but want to hug him. That's right folks, prepare for Tenou as well.)


	5. Pretty

**Chapter Five: PRETTY**

Zouchouten stood in his shower, a little perturbed. This was the second night in a row Karura Skye had climbed into his dreams. It wasn't like this was something unnatural or weird; she was an attractive adult female and he was a straight adult male. And he actually liked Skye a lot –

He sighed, reaching for his shampoo and pouring some into his outstretched hand. Maybe that was it. She was a nice person he interacted with on a daily basis, not some distant sexpot like a movie star, and she did not seem interested at all and that was why he was feeling bad about this.

She would probably quit in high dudgeon if she ever knew he'd dreamed about getting her naked in his office. She would _really _blow her stack if she found out he'd also dreamed about getting her naked on his kitchen table and some nameless beach somewhere. _I can't help it,_ his mind complained. _I can't control my subconscious!_

"Subconscious no, actions yes," he muttered aloud, then realized he'd been gripping the shampoo throughout his mental meanderings and had wasted more then half the bottle.

"Aw, hell."

He shook his head. He was just going to accept it and continue with his life. It was simpler that way.

In the penthouse office of Zenmi Industries, a crime lord's son waited to meet his new boss.

Tenou King glanced out the wall of windows (heights made him nervous), fidgeted with his tie (he despised wearing the things), kicked at the floor with a Gucci shoe (he preferred sneakers), and generally hated his life (this was nothing new).

Taishakuten's only child took a deep breath, just the way he'd been taught to do in therapy before his psychologist had inexplicably died. He held it for a count of five, exhaled to the count of five, and did it again. It helped.

_Okay, _he told himself in an assertive mental tone, _we can do this. It's better than what Father wanted us to do with our life. Yes, we had to withdraw from college because he insisted, but we'll be fine. We'll learn things here. We can help the world through business!_

Against the odds of genetics and environment, Tenou was a great believer in helping the world. He always had been, to the consternation of his family.

"_Forbes" says she's nice. "Forbes" said she runs one of the best companies to work at, and that she knows the name of everybody she comes into daily contact with and some she doesn't._

Of course, "Forbes" often had a self-absorbed loony like The Trump on the cover to lavish praise upon, so Tenou realized then that perhaps that particular magazine was not the best indication of the Zenmi Industries CEO's character.

_Okay, um…I think the Animal Humane Society's monthly bulletin said she gives a ton of money to shelters all over the country._

He nodded, heaving a relieved sigh. He loved animals himself, although he hadn't had a pet for years, not after what had happened to his Golden Retriever.

_Poor Fluffy…_

He slammed the door on that thought. He was very good at shutting out unhappy memories and daily occurrences. It was a survival mechanism, really.

He stared at a picture on the wall. Apparently Kisshouten North had been told by her husband Bishamonten that he, Tenou, was looking for a job, one that didn't require learning the vulnerable areas of the human body and how best to inflict pain on it.

She had, according to Tenou's mother, Shashi, been kind enough to offer dear little Tenniekins a position ("Be sure to _thank_ her, sweetie. She's a _busy_ woman"). Tenou had been hoping to major in business and had thrown himself into his classes, and he thought he was decent enough at it. (As he had very low self-esteem and honestly believed he wasn't all that great, he was in fact absolutely brilliant at it.)

So now here he was, pondering two possible reasons for Ms. North's generosity. Reason One involved her being a higher-up in his father's crime empire and wanting to please Taishakuten by keeping his son out of his overly long hair, and Reason Two went something like this:

She was a very sweet, very stupid woman who had no idea who Tenou was or whom her husband worked for, and she was probably trying to make her beloved hubby happy.

If the second situation was the case, Tenou felt very sorry for Bishamonten's wife already. He had earlier this month walked in on his mother going down on his father's second-in-command, and after shrieking and running off with Bishamonten's haughty laugher ringing in his ears, he'd spent the next five days agonizing over what to tell Taishakuten.

He'd decided that the answer should be "nothing", as his father seemed to know everything about everyone anyway. He had been proven correct one night a week later, as the four of them were having dinner.

Taishakuten had turned to his subordinate and asked casually, "And just _how_ long have you been sleeping with my wife now, Bishamonten?"

The other man had smirked and said, as if this was a normal thing, "One month, give or take a few days."

Tenou had walked out of the room at that. Taishakuten had smiled slightly, watched him, turned to look at Bishamonten, and said offhandedly, "Well, we know he doesn't get his hair color from _you_."

Shashi had laughed, Bishamonten had taken another sip of wine, and Taishakuten had turned his attention back to his chicken as Tenou had run upstairs and tried not to cry.

Tenou shook off the memory in determination. If Kisshouten North was indeed a woman very much in love with her bastard of a husband, he wouldn't ruin that. He was good at being passive. Being passive had kept him alive for twenty years and it was working pretty darn well.

Sure, he hated himself. Yes, his mother, father, and even some of the meaner pool boys walked all over him. And, of course, he could only count a few of Taishakuten's minions as friends, because he had no normal ones and they were amused enough to let him ask about their families… but he was still living. And one day, he vowed, just as he did every day, _one fine day_ he would throw off his shackles and make the world a better place.

Then everyone would love him and forgive him for never telling his father what a monster he was, and for offering homemade scones to blood-spattered hitmen, while his mother played adult games with Bishamonten in full view of her family.

Yes, on that day, when Taishakuten and his manipulative second-in-command were sitting in prison contemplating the error of their ways, Shashi would suddenly realize what a loose woman she'd been and devote her life to helping the impoverished.

Tenou himself would have three dogs and five cats and a rabbit or two, and marry a lovely young woman who loved him for his mind. They would have a kid they would dote on, and he would never again have to wonder if he would find a freshly-killed body when he came downstairs for breakfast.

Yes, the world would be all right, just like it was meant to be.

It was a lovely little fantasy, full of hope and light…and it was completely and utterly ridiculous. Tenou knew this, he wasn't stupid. He knew what his family and their friends were, although one would have had to beat it out of him for him to say it out loud.

But the shining ideal of a future kept him going, made it so he could smile at his mother and father and not throw himself into traffic. And there were much more idiotic fantasies that millions of people believed in and would happily kill themselves, anyone who told them it was dumb, and any innocent bystanders for.

So while Tenou knew his life would probably end at gunpoint, his own father having gotten tired of him, he could pretend that someday, somehow, he would be okay. It was all he had, in the end.

His melancholy musings were cut down and killed instantly as the door opened behind him, and a rich contralto said, "Hello. You must be Tenou. I'm Kisshouten North."

He whipped around and stared at his new boss, one word ringing in his head like a gong:

_Pretty_.

He was no stranger to beautiful women. After all, his mother had been a teen model and his father had a habit of keeping attractive female assistants around him, but Kisshouten North had a purity about her that was the antithesis of the in-your-face sensuality of those women.

"Yes, I'm…I'm…" What was his name again?

"Tenou!" he proclaimed happily, proud of himself for having remembered such a trivial detail, when this lovely angel of a CEO had come down from Heaven and smiled upon him.

Kisshouten smiled again. She was used to this sort of reaction; for some reason almost everyone she came in contact with gazed at her like she was some sort of divine being.

And by now she could read people very well by the subsequent expression on their faces after they'd picked their jaws up off the floor: a good person would smile as if they'd found a happy reason to better themselves, a regular person would flush and get jealous but smile anyway because they felt bad about being jealous, and a bad person…a bad person would grin evilly, because here was something to corrupt.

Kisshouten knew Tenou probably wouldn't smirk at her like she was an enjoyable new objective to conquer, but she hadn't expected the young man to look absolutely beatific.

_She's nice, I can tell already! Nobody can look this wonderful, this caring, this…__not__evil__, and be like my family! _he thought giddily. Maybe Ms. North would actually like him, maybe she'd say things like "My, Tenou, you did such a _wonderful _job on that finance report" and truly mean it.

It never occurred to him that this puppy-dog enthusiasm was a bit, well, _odd. _As someone whose entire life had been spent with people who were nice only to his face while laughing in their heads and behind his back at him (and sometimes to his face too), Taishakuten's son was a parched seedling in the sun of life, desperate for the healing, nourishing waters of a _purpose. _

He probably would have reacted the same way, really, if a poor, orphaned child had said "Thanks for the change, mister, now I can eat tonight!" He would have thrown himself into making that person's life as good as he possibly could…but as Taishakuten kept Tenou away from "commoners" (as he called them), this had not happened. Instead Bishamonten's wife had been kind to the young man, and he would follow her because he wanted to make someone else happy.

Kisshouten paused. Though Tenou had no such qualms about his new path in life, she herself was a little unnerved by his well-mannered but obvious exuberance. She wondered if he was going to try to hit on her. He was after all a mob boss's son and no doubt used to getting whatever he wanted.

Yet he wasn't looking at her chest; he was keeping very good eye contact, but he wasn't gazing into her eyes and making a silly speech about how "I cannot give you what you truly deserve, like the stars in the heavens, but I will try" like a number of other overly-romantic would-be lovers had.

Maybe he was just stupid.

She considered this explanation. Bishamonten, when he bothered to tell her anything, had made condescending remarks about Tenou's inability to enjoy the finer things in life, such as causing others pain and taking their possessions. Apparently his boss's only child cried a lot and was pretty shy, and kept dropping hints about making the world better.

Even as everyone around him schemed for power, Bishamonten had sneered, Tenou made iced tea and tried to get them to talk about working things out.

Yes, Kisshouten decided, her new hire was a limp-wristed numskull. He seemed sweet enough, though.

As his new paragon pegged him as a moron, Tenou smiled some more and stepped back so she could get to her desk. "Thank you so much, Ms. North, for giving me this chance. I promise I'll give you one hundred-and-ten percent!"

She sat down and crossed one elegant, pump-wearing leg under the desk. "Thank you, Tenou, I'm sure you will. Now, according to your resume, you have little practical experience but very high marks in your classes. I may start you off in the mailroom."

This was fine with him, because mailrooms were important. But something occurred to him then: he might be able to be even _more _helpful if he could actually see the inner workings of the company. And so, against all instincts to be passive and blend into the background, Tenou King did something he had a very difficult time doing.

He promoted himself. "Ms. North, of course I'd love to be of help in the mailroom, but I actually had an internship in a Fortune 500 company last year."

This was true. One of his professors, recognizing an organizational gift, had wangled him a position in the company of an old school chum. A shocked Tenou (most people didn't get one of those until senior year) had jumped at the chance, and, after a very steep learning curve, excelled at it. He'd passed it off as being very lucky (which of course he had been), and figured that anybody could have done it (which of course was incorrect).

Kisshouten looked back down at the paper she was holding, and yes indeed, he had. She'd just glanced at the "experience" section and seen very little; she hadn't bothered to really read it, as the first job listed had been "assistant gardener to Mr. Earl T. Cowthwaite".

And it was a good company he'd interned in. Hmm. Perhaps not the mailroom then. But where should she put him?

So she asked him a couple questions, and his answers made her ask him more. Then more. Then even more. Tenou King, she was starting to realize, might be an asset, not just a charity case (Kisshouten was big on charity cases).

After an hour, Kisshouten sat back and stared at Tenou. Good lord, he might be the best fresh-from-college hire she'd ever interviewed. Of course, she hardly ever interviewed people like that, but still.

And he wanted to learn, she could tell. He wanted to _help. _And not just her: this young man really, honestly wanted to help other people.

Kisshouten, for all she was a CEO, rather liked helping people too. She hated what she had to do for Bishamonten and Taishakuten, so she made a point to be nice to and help, in some small way, anyone she could.

And Tenou knew about his father and Bishamonten, so she wouldn't have to justify things to him. He would understand when she said, "We should concentrate our efforts here, in weapons production" and not give her a weird look like some executives did.

That thought made her pause for a second. She might need to keep rather a tight leash on him; what if he mentioned something about the illegality of her husband's dealings? Then some other innocent person, she was sure, would have a horrible "accident". No, for everyone's sake, it might be best if she just kept him close.

So she gave him a brilliant smile. "Tenou, I've decided where I want you to work."

He smiled back. "Okay, Ms. North. I'll be happy to do it, wherever it is."

"Well, Tenou…I think I'll keep you here in this office. As my assistant."

The "Hallelujah Chorus" played in his head before his logic caught up with him. "You… but, I mean, I'm just a –"

"Tenou," she smiled, "I am the CEO. I can do what I want, and I want you to stay in this office and help me. You will learn, you will assist me, and I will teach you how to navigate this company."

He stared at her, feeling like he'd stepped into some sort of alternate universe where the rules of logic didn't apply. He, Tenou King, who had no degree, would be _assistant _to a _CEO_.

And then he grinned. "When do I start?"

Playboy One – _No, I'm just plain old Kujaku this month_ – was sitting in a park in Tenkai City, finishing his iced caramel frappuccino with extra whipped cream and little chocolate sprinkles. He was wondering what he should do next today. It was weird, not being in the saving-the-country-and-the-world business for a whole month.

He'd gone to one bar, hadn't liked it, and gone right back to his hotel. He'd never been into being hit on by strange people, or hitting on them, and he wasn't much of a drinker. He had seen the sights (there were a couple cool museums), and he had of course, despite being told emphatically _not _to by Twelve, kept his eyes and ears open for any news of the crime lord he'd wanted to take down for years, but nothing had come up.

He tilted his drink back, got the last of the whipped cream out, and grinned when some got on his upper lip. He licked it off. Time was when someone _else _would have licked it off; maybe not in public, but if he'd asked nicely enough…

Kujaku shook his head sadly and stood up. Dwelling on the past got him nowhere. Besides, he had to go rinse out and recycle his cup, as he was big on saving the planet in any way he could.

So he walked on over to the drinking fountain, dutifully cleaned out the coffee residue, and looked around for a recycling container. Nope, none in sight. Just trash. He shrugged and wandered over to the playground. He'd just carry the thing with him until he found a recycling, because Kujaku J. Valentine was a responsible citizen.

He smiled as the single cutest child he had ever seen hugged a well-built brunette on a bench. "Yasha, will you push me on the swings?"

"_Yasha"?_

Kujaku blinked, his gaze turning pensive behind his sunglasses. _He'd _known a Yasha…

_Whoa there, Ku, stop that, _he scolded himself, stomping down the irrational hope that had seized up his chest. The chances of it being the same man were slim to none; _his _Yasha was probably back in the godforsaken suburb of Wealthymanville, Indiana, teaching rich children their ABCs, no doubt having long since forgotten the bastard agent who'd turned him out and left him.

"Ashura, wouldn't you rather go on the slide? Swings are so dangerous without a helmet." Ashura's father stood up, sighing, as the boy made an exasperated face and Kujaku dropped his cup, nearly falling over in surprise.

_My Yasha? Am I seeing things?_

He studied the other man, who was walking over to the exceedingly dangerous playground equipment in complete oblivion. Same long, dark brown hair, pulled back in a low ponytail now. Same handsome face, wearing glasses (Kujaku recalled that Yasha had had contacts years ago). Same muscular build, same voice, same…same _everything._

Same left hand with no wedding band.

_Hmm. _Yasha had been very big on propriety, and for him to have fathered a child out of wedlock was near on a sign of the Apocalypse. Instead of telling him to look around for the Four Horsemen, Kujaku's brain went into deep thinking mode.

_Something must have happened. The mom can't be dead, because he'd be wearing that ring and probably have hers on a chain around his neck if that had been the case. Did they get divorced? Did she leave him? _

_Does he need somebody to love? What would he do if I walked over there right now and introduced myself to Shorty?_

He pondered this for a while as Ashura shrieked with joy on the swing set and Yasha actually laughed, the sound of his voice making Kujaku want to howl at the unfairness of life. He remembered with crystal clarity that same wonderful baritone saying earnestly, "I love you."

_And I love you, Yasha. I never stopped. Dear God, I think about you every damn day…_

And now Yasha was here, standing right in front of him. Granted, he was facing away from Kujaku and had no idea he was here, but darn it, what were the odds?

Kujaku was not a gambling man, but he made the decision then and there that he would stack the deck and get his Yasha back. He would find out where he lived, where he worked, where his son went to school, and he would sweep the other man right off his feet and carry him off into the sunset while birds sang…because Playboy One could do anything.

Nodding resolutely, he turned away and slammed face-first into a tetherball pole. Dazed and shaking his head, he picked up his cracked sunglasses and scanned the playground. _Nobody saw that, right?_

No one had paid his unintentional impression of a Three Stooges sketch any attention. _Oh, good._

(AN: Yes, I dig Kujaku/Yasha. Passionately. I'm not a hardcore yaoi fan; I don't pair any attractive male with any other attractive male and think gay sex is the hottest thing ever, but I _do _pair these two, because it makes an awful lot of sense to me.

So…former flames. An explanation of why they broke up and how they met will be two chapters from now. But we'll see Kujaku play lovesick spy in the next one. Oh, and as far as I know there is no Wealthymanville, Indiana.

And I love writing Tenou. He's such a cutie-pie. I like getting into his head and feel very, very sorry for him. A decent person with a power-hungry mom and a psycho dad, he does his best, and I smiled when I wrote his little fantasy of how everyone would love him and he'd have so many pets.

He's no dummy, let's make that clear. He's a survivor of trauma, doing his best every day not to go nuts.

And sex dreams about Karura, oh dear. Zouchouten, you perv you…)


	6. Miss Me?

**Chapter Six: Miss Me?**

Kujaku, armed with a license plate number, spent an awful lot of time getting information on Yasha. He figured out where the teacher lived. He found his insurance providers. He talked to Ashura's playground monitor. And…he pinpointed the exact location of Yasha's desk in the community college he worked in.

Kujaku was very tempted to get chummy with the president and have the guy call Yasha in, then jump out from behind the door and beam "Surprise!" But he decided that might get Yasha fired if he wasn't happy to see his old lover. He'd probably start yelling at him for being childish if that was the case.

Instead, Kujaku watched the other staff carefully and hit on a possible weak point in the faculty's defenses. Having convinced the campus security that he was a visiting lecturer on criminal justice, he wandered on over to the chem lab.

Kumaraten Hades…he was sure this guy could help. He'd called a couple favors in and gotten some blackmail potential. Yup, the chemist had once been into cow tipping (during high school, but still) and had an assault charge against him (apparently he'd gotten into a fistfight during his college graduation).

Hades was a man on the edge, and if he didn't cooperate Kujaku could hold these dark deeds over his head until he gave in. Yes, Hades would _introduce _Kujaku to Yasha as a dear friend.

Kujaku paused outside the lab. Despite the faint smell of something having burned recently, the place didn't _look _like the lair of a crazy scientist. Well, you could never really tell.

He was just nudging the door open with his foot as if it might explode in his face when he heard two voices, one very familiar, one not familiar at all.

"– I am telling you, Yama, Kahra insists! She thinks you work too hard."

"I work the same amount you do, Kumaraten."

Kujaku looked around frantically for somewhere to hide. Nothing out here. In the lab? But what if it went "boom"? …Hey, this room was at ground level, and the window was open. He could see shrubs out there.

So he ran into the lab and rolled out the window just as Hades and Yasha came in, apparently too wrapped up in their discussion to notice a thing.

"Look, when my wife sets her mind on something I can't change it. Remember the goldfish incident? _I _remember the goldfish incident very well, Yama. Just do it."

Kujaku made a mental note to ask Yasha, after he'd swept him off his feet, about the goldfish incident.

Yasha sighed. "Well, I don't know…"

"What about your babysitter guy? Pay him extra. It's Friday night, but I'm sure money would keep him from going off and doing stupid stuff like _I _did at his age."

Ah-ha, Hades was upfront about his misdeeds against bovines! ...That might make this rather harder, now that Kujaku thought about it.

"Actually Kumaraten, Ryuu stays pretty responsible, I think."

"Ryuu…that's a funny name." Hades' voice suddenly picked up a note of fear. "He doesn't have a relative named Seiryuu, does he?"

"I don't know. That would be a rather odd coincidence. I'll ask him the next time I see him though."

Kujaku picked a twig out of his hair. Would these guys never shut up about silly names? He needed to continue his mission!

"Yama," the chemistry teacher ordered, "Kahra says we'll meet there at eight next Friday. Do you need directions to the bar?" Kujaku immediately whipped out his trusty notepad and pen and took them down. Apparently Yasha did the same.

_Cool. Now I won't need Hades at all!_

"Fine, Kumaraten. I'll be there." Yasha sounded like he was discussing his own execution.

"Great." Kumaraten seemed much happier. "We'll have fun. Now, I have some papers to grade, so…"

Kujaku wanted to stay and hear more, but a couple of students had noticed the sunglass-wearing man hiding in the bushes and were talking on their cell phones in low voices. So he crawled over to the side, away from the window, and stood up with as much dignity as he could muster. Nodding to the students as if he had a right to be there, he strolled off, humming the theme from "Mission: Impossible".

He hopped into his car, buckled his seatbelt, rolled the window down, turned the radio on, admired himself in the mirror…and burned rubber before security came around.

Karura had not been able to help noticing (as she was now actively looking in curiosity) that the desk in the bar's office had no pictures of family members or beloved pets. Aside from a shot of grinning Koumokuten in front of a bonfire, the only image there was a photo of a much younger Zouchouten wearing Army fatigues and standing in front of a desert ruin, next to a similarly-attired man who did not look at all like his brother.

She picked it up, turned it over, and read the back: "Iraq, 1991. Jikokuten Higashi and Zouchouten Southland." She started to put it back down, wondering why this photo would be chosen to occupy such a prominent place on the desk.

"Snooping in the office, Skye?"

She jumped as Aguni's voice came from behind her. Whirling around, still holding the framed object of interest, she lied, "Of course not, Aguni. I was just waiting for Zouchouten to ask him a question."

The head cook tilted her head, smirking. "Sure you were, Skye. That's why you're flushing."

Cursing her body's tendency to betray embarrassment, Karura set the photo down, making sure it was in the exact same position as before. "It's hot in here. Surely you've noticed."

Apparently deciding to let the picture issue go, Aguni shrugged. "I suppose so. It's getting warmer, after all." She gave Karura a grin. "Everybody's wearing tank tops, even you."

Karura nodded back. "Yes, it's getting to really be spring, isn't it?"

The dark-skinned woman studied her, and the pale woman studied Aguni right back. Karura didn't spend a lot of time in the kitchen, but Aguni had a habit of stalking around imperiously, having left the run-of-the-mill food preparation to her minions. They'd crossed paths, and the Amazon, after deciding that she couldn't bully this one, had been polite to Karura. They weren't friends, but Aguni was nice enough to her, really.

Karura had noticed, however, that the cook turned into a superbitch when any attractive male was around, or even unattractive male in power. Aguni had once made a (male) bartender cry in Koumokuten's presence as he sat back with a "here we go again" look on his face. She'd laughed haughtily until Zouchouten had shown up and ordered, "Now cut that out."

She had sighed and said, "Well, for you, I suppose." She'd walked on off those silly heels as Zouchouten had rolled his eyes and Koumokuten had eyed her legs.

"Yes," Aguni said finally now, "summer's coming, isn't it?"

Karura was wondering how she could make her escape when another voice came from the doorway. "Why are you two in the office?" Zouchouten was here, looking slightly annoyed. "We're done closing up."

"Skye was just wondering about your picture," Aguni tattled almost joyfully.

He glanced at said object. "Oh. Boy, that thing's getting faded. I really should transfer it to digital. That's an old friend of mine," he informed them casually. "He saved my life a number of times."

"Do you still keep in touch?" Karura asked, then regretted it when his eyes darkened. Zouchouten sighed sadly. "Yeah. I visit his grave every year."

"Oh. Um, what –"

"Mortar round. I'd rather not talk about it." Zouchouten turned away. "C'mon, we're leaving. Unless you two want to spend the night with the beer bottles, let's go."

"Z, spending a night locked in here would be some people's dream come true," Koumokuten pointed out nastily as he fell into step with his friend, Vahyu and Varuna trailing him with Hanranya trailing them.

"Quit that, Koumokuten." Zouchouten accepted the helmet the other man held out. "Thanks. Did you close up the bar?"

"No, I opened the windows and put up a giant neon sign saying 'Come on in, burglars'," Koumokuten sniped back. "Then I piled cash up on the counter so high it couldn't be missed by a nearsighted granny with cataracts. Of _course _I closed up the bar, you wanker!"

"Kou-Kou, insulting him like that is just the sort of thing that turns people into repressed perverts," Vahyu said wisely. "Everyone does it. I'll bet you do it all the –"

Koumokuten exploded, "Shut the fuck up, Vahyu! Never call me that again! This isn't health class, and anyway, I have so many babes to stroke my –"

"Okay, stop, both of you," Zouchouten snapped. "Varuna's turning red and there are women around."

At least one of them didn't care. "But Vahyu's right, Zouchouten. Ignoring our gods-given sexual desires can block the flow of chi and –"

"Hanranya, you can shut up too. Now," Zouchouten ordered, in an "I-will-not-repeat-this-so-listen-carefully" tone, "we are all going to keep it decent, lock up what we're supposed to, and go home to our…I don't know, our TVs…or something," he ended lamely, not having really thought his conclusion out that well.

Karura nodded seriously, Vahyu smirked, Varuna was already running out the door, Hanranya looked about to say something else but wisely desisted her current line of conversation, Aguni looked disappointed, and Koumokuten twirled his keys nonchalantly, saying "Okay, Bishop Southland."

Upon exiting the bar and entering into the garage, Vahyu waved to Hanranya. "Bye, Hannie! Tell your kitty I said 'hi'!"

"Yes. Is she doing all right now?" Zouchouten asked, slightly unsure if he should ask after Bast's earlier scare with thyroid cancer.

"Oh, she's doing very well, thank you. The vet says it's due to the new food, but _I _know it's from the smudging I performed on her," Hanranya responded serenely.

"Good. Give her some catnip from me, okay?" Zouchouten waved a hand and turned away.

"That man is surprisingly sentimental sometimes," Aguni murmured to Karura.

"You'd never know by his appearance," the shorter woman mused, thinking to herself that having a dead friend's picture on your desk wasn't _that _sentimental, nor was asking about a beloved feline family member. They watched Zouchouten buckle on his helmet and throw a leg over the seat of a gleaming vintage Harley, nodding to Koumokuten, who was opening the door to a sleek black Toyota.

"No. Big tough guys usually say 'screw memories, I don't have time for that weenie crap'. He'd look good on a lead, don't you think? He'd fight it all the way, of course. Men like that are the most fun to dominate." Aguni's smile was wolfish, and Karura realized that her initial impression of the head cook had been spot-on.

"Somehow I think he might end up breaking his restraints and barricading himself behind a door," she replied.

Aguni sighed. "You're _so _right. There are some men who just don't like the collar." She gave Karura a once-over. "You're Mistress material yourself, you know. Do you still have your handcuffs? You should use them. I can lend you some footwear, if you want."

"No, I'm fine, thanks," Karura said politely, a bit shaken.

Aguni shrugged. "All right. But you really should let your inner Queen out to play once in a while." She waved as both of her bosses tore out of the garage at speeds that were probably illegal, then turned to a red Corvette with flame detailing and a license plate that said "GODDSSA".

Karura walked over to her own sensible Oldsmobile with the Garuda feathers hanging on the rearview mirror, and drove home at a decent but very responsible speed.

Back at her apartment half an hour later, Karura was telling her bird all about Aguni, and what she had said. "Koumokuten would probably suggest something like that, but I feel sorry for poor Zouchouten," Karura laughed.

"Zouchoudon!" Garuda repeated exuberantly.

"_Ten_, Garuda. Zouchou_ten_."

"Zouchouten." The cockatoo bobbed his head. "Good Garuda," he suggested.

"Yes, good Garuda." She petted him again. "You know, Garuda, I like when he works… which I think is almost every day. I hardly ever see him gone. He must have, like Koumokuten said, very little else in his life."

She shook her head. "That's so sad." It never entered her head that she was much the same way, because she had a feathered soulmate and Zouchouten only had some silly chopper thing. And most likely high blood pressure, due to his business partner and other employees.

"Don't get me wrong," Karura told her bird, "I like most people there, even a lot of the waitresses who think I'm butch or something. Vahyu's fun, Hanranya's sweet, and I like when Kendappa plays. I like _her_ a _lot. _The only person I truly, strongly _dislike_," she made a face, "is Koumokuten."

"Bad," Garuda chipped in seriously, having picked up on his human's tone and grimace.

She laughed. "Now, Garuda, he _has_ backed off. I can deal with him, and his stupid 'Wanna see my other tattoo?' to any attractive female who doesn't run away on sight when he talks to her."

Silence for a minute as she tickled her cockatoo's neck, then, "But I still much prefer Zouchouten."

"Good," Garuda lilted. "Good Zouchouten."

Karura snuggled him. "Yes, he is good. I like working with him. Do you know why?"

"Why?" Garuda asked obediently; she'd taught him this trick before.

"Because Zouchouten," she said happily, "respects me. He lets me do what I need to do and he doesn't make stupid comments, and he smiles at me while looking me in the eye. He does have rather ridiculous sideburns, though," she said seriously.

"Ridiculous sideburns."

Karura lit up. "Garuda! That was two new, difficult words! What a smart boy!" She walked over to the counter. "That deserves a _special _treat."

Garuda flapped his wings and crowed, "Peanut! Peanut! Peanut!"

She handed him his legume, and smiled, and things were all right.

The next night, Kendappa showed up early. "Hey Karura! Come talk to me?"

Karura paused, looking around. The bar was pretty empty, nobody seemed belligerent, and Vahyu was himself chatting up Kendappa's drummer…but she was on the clock, and wasting company time was a no-no. Well, to Karura, anyway.

And there was one other thing. She'd been making a couple inquiries on Karyou's killer's life, and one of her informants was meeting her here tonight. She had at first thought about meeting him in a park, but figured that was just asking for trouble.

Then she'd hit on the idea of using the Four Gods as a contact point. Informants liked bars, and she could talk to them casually. (She didn't notice how strange it was that she was okay with bribing wanted men on the clock, but not talking to a friend.) She _had _thought about letting Zouchouten know, but then she had figured that hey, it wasn't _illegal _to ask for information, was it? No. He might overreact anyway.

And her informant would be here in… She checked her watch. Okay, an hour.

It then occurred to her that if she talked to _Kendappa,_ no one would think how odd it was that she talked to other people. So she nodded and pulled up a chair. "All right. How are you?"

Kendappa grinned. "Just great. And yourself?"

Karura smiled. "Pretty well, thank you. I liked that second song you sang last time."

Kendappa just flapped a hand. "Oh, that's an old one. I wrote it in high school, and it was about my hated math teacher. These days I write about better stuff: my lover, my friends, people who annoy me now." She glanced over at Koumokuten, who had just snagged a glass of tequila. "You know how it is."

Karura didn't, not exactly, but she acted like she did. "Yes, of course."

Kendappa gave her another grin. "I'm thinking about writing a theme song for this place, actually. I could call it 'I've Got Four Gods and Alcohol', or something."

That would be a good name for a rock song, Karura had to admit. "You've played here a lot?"

The musician smiled, twirling her hair. "Yup. Since I was nineteen years old. Zou and I were friends before, and one day he said, 'One of my bands pulled out. If you promise not to try to drink, I'll give your band a break.' It was a different band then, but we played, even though my bassist tried to drink and he got mad. But it put us on the scene."

She indicated the bar at large. "This is a good place to be. People like it, not just for the music. It's well-maintained, the prices are good, the food's great, and (I shouldn't be telling you this) people sometimes take dares on how mad you can get Zouchouten before he throws you out."

Karura's jaw dropped. "No way. That's stupid."

Kendappa just laughed. "It's true though. A lot of college guys get bought drinks other places for having said something like 'Boy, you're like a geriatric pro wrestler'."

"Sheesh. I mean, he's what, fifty-something?" Karura, with the wisdom of the young, thought her boss was overreacting to such taunts.

Kendappa shrugged. "Fifty. His birthday was in February. He tried to ignore it, but Koumokuten threw him a huge bash with giant balloons and announced it over the sound system."

The guiltily-smiling Karura shook her head. "Wow…what a great friend. Seriously, how did that happen? They're total opposites."

The brunette considered. "I don't know, actually. They've been best buds for as long as I've known them. They built this thing together, you know. Zouchouten keeps it running on a day-to-day basis, and Koumokuten provided the capital. I've always thought it might be wise to stay in the dark about how exactly he got the money."

Karura frowned. "I'm surprised Zouchouten would let that slide."

Kendappa sighed. "He's no saint, Karura. He's only human. He and Koumokuten are a lot alike in some ways." They watched the two owners as they pored over a list, until Koumokuten's attention was caught by a beautiful woman passing by. Zouchouten looked up, rolled his eyes, smacked his business partner on the arm, and continued reading the figures as Koumokuten glared at him, rubbing his bicep.

"Although Zouchouten does seem to have learned basic civility, like talking to a woman's face instead of her breasts," Kendappa allowed, smirking.

"I was about to say."

Four days later found Koumokuten stalking around and being short with people. Zouchouten was off today, and while Koumokuten didn't mind being the only boss on site, he did hate being asked stupid questions all the time and not being able to take women back to the storage room for some fun.

Having just had to do something very hard (tell a drunken sorority girl that no, he would _not _try her on for size), he sighed. Life sucked.

And then his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, but it was completely blank. _Weird. _He flipped the phone open and pressed it to his ear. "Yeah?"

A smooth male voice purred, "Enjoying your evening, Oeste? Your business seems to be doing well, I must say."

He frowned, snapping, "Who the hell is this?"

"I detect a certain amount of disrespect in your tone, Koumokuten. Taishakuten will not be pleased by that."

Koumokuten's eyes widened. "Bishamonten."

"Oh, yes." The bar owner could practically _feel _the cold smirk on that aristocratic face, even through the phone. "Miss me?"

"Not at all," Koumokuten said honestly, scanning the room as if Bishamonten was concealed in a smoky corner with a sniper rifle trained on him. He wouldn't put it past the guy, really.

"Oeste, at least make an effort to be polite. I do know where your daughter lives, after all."

Koumokuten shrugged. "Are you offering?"

Amused silence on the other end, then, "This is a matter of some urgency."

He could believe it, as Bishamonten wasn't the kind of guy to call just to reminisce. "Uh-huh. After so long, it would have to be. Why now?"

"Taishakuten has learned that a certain annoyance has started asking questions he doesn't want asked. We've tracked her to your place. Her name's Skye."

Koumokuten lit a cigarette, holding his phone to his ear with his shoulder. "Whaddya want me to do about it? I didn't hire her, that was my business partner's doing. Talk to him if you have a problem." He inhaled. "She's working out well. It'd be a shame to get rid of her. Easy on the eyes and a black belt in karate."

"Quite. We all know which is more important to you, but your friend Zouchouten… Is he aware of her renewed interest in her sister's murder case?"

Koumokuten blew a smoke ring. "Bishamonten, _I _wasn't aware of it, and I watch that chick like a raptor. Z kinda lets her do her own thing…" he smiled then, "but I'll bet you anything he's staring at her ass from across the room."

"Oeste, I am not interested in your workplace melodrama. Distract her, intimidate her, or fire her outright, but Taishakuten wants her off his tail."

"Shit, Bish, he has _how_ many government agencies sniffing around, and he's worried about one woman with a chip on her shoulder?" Koumokuten asked, having a hard time believing what he was hearing.

"Taishakuten is a firm believer in Fate. He is an even firmer believer in not taking unnecessary chances. Now," Bishamonten murmured, "you get Skye off the scent and things will go well for you. Let her continue her inquiries, and you may find yourself at the bottom of a large body of water. Do I make myself clear?"

"Transparently." The dial tone was the only answer he received, but Koumokuten was dead certain that Bishamonten had heard him.

He stared at his cigarette for a moment longer before he crushed it out on a table. _Well, fuck. Z is gonna be pissed if I fire his darling new security. On the other hand, I'd like to keep my head, and at least __Z__ will only take it off figuratively._

Koumokuten groaned. He needed a drink.

(AN: In this little world, Jikokuten and Zouchouten served together in Operation Desert Storm, the 1990-1991 war in Iraq. While he was Kendappa's father in canon, here they are unrelated. Why? Well, for variety, really. And since we never see him interact with anyone, I have no idea what he was like, so he gets to be dead from a mortar round, poor man.

And uh-oh, Bishamonten knows Koumokuten. But really, no one that nasty can possibly be a good guy, right? An explanation of how they know each other and why Koumokuten's currently a bar owner instead of a hitman is upcoming…along with the two of them being exceedingly passive-aggressive in their interactions.

Next chapter, we'll finally go in-depth with Taishakuten King, crime lord, and Shashi King, trophy wife who's much more than she seems. And just to warn you, this fic will be bumped up to an "M" rating in that chapter as well. All I'll say now is that Yasha has a rather vivid memory.)


	7. Introvert Hell

**Chapter Seven: Introvert Hell**

In a dark, lavish bedroom, Taishakuten King pulled on his expensive, tailored pants as his wife took a sip of wine. "Shashi," he mused, walking over to his huge mirror, "I'm no longer satisfied."

This was a surprise to her. She'd thought doing whatever the hell he wanted had been enough. "You seemed happy enough to _me, _Taishakuten," she murmured. "I mean, really, you were –"

"I was pretending I was raping a terrified virgin, Shashi," he said nonchalantly, turning around in time to see her fake pout.

"Oh." It was a soft, almost bored noise, one Shashi used when she was rather sickened but needed to pretend she was merely put out.

"Yes." Taishakuten picked up a brush. "Perhaps we should consider adding someone else."

"If you say so," she shrugged, putting down her glass. She figured she might as well make the best of a bad situation. "Can I make a request? I likedwhen Bish–"

"No, wife of mine," Taishakuten sighed, "not another man…a woman."

In the mirror, he watched her expression flash from disgust to a practiced simper. He smirked as she said breathily, "Well I'm not sure I'd like that, but I'd do it for _you._"

"Yes, I know you would. You do whatever I tell you to," he murmured, brushing out a knot in his long silver hair, then turning suddenly to look at her with a violent smile on his face. "I could tell you to fuck an entire gang of obese bulldykes, and you would do it. And why is that?"

_Because you'd kill me if I said "no". _She hated this little game he liked to play, but he paid the bills for her expensive tastes, so she tittered and said, "Because I love you, dear."

She was lying and he knew it, and he thought that was funny, to be able to watch her squirm and know he had all the power. "Correct, Shashi." He nodded, a master descending from on high to throw a scrap of praise to his well-trained dog.

He continued brushing his hair, smirking at his reflection, and she drank more wine. She didn't like him, she didn't like him at _all_. He was a true psychopath, and while she could put up with it because he had what she wanted, she often found herself hoping he'd get killed by a tactical strike or something, leaving her with all his assets. But he never did.

She'd worked very hard for those assets, too. Despite what everyone else thought, Tenou actually _was _Taishakuten's biological son, she'd made damn sure of that. She didn't love the boy, but she was fond of him. He was, after all, her insurance.

Taishakuten watched Shashi sip her expensive wine in her expensive crystal glass: she was an expensive, amusing private whore, he thought contentedly.

They'd met twenty years ago in an upscale "gentlemen's" club in Houston, where he'd been rewarding himself for killing A. Lord, a federal agent codenamed "War God", with the company of four gorgeous women vetted by his bodyguards. Shashi had slithered off the stage and walked over to Taishakuten on heels that could have opened up a hole in someone's leather shoes, they were so spiky.

"Hello. You must be King. I've heard an awful lot about you."

His right-hand man had immediately opened up his jacket and gone for his shoulder holster, but a calm "Stay your hand, Bishamonten" had stopped him in his tracks. After all, Taishakuten had figured, not even the deadliest assassin in the world could conceal a weapon beneath a g-string.

He'd smiled at Shashi. "Shouldn't you get back up on your pole?"

She had shaken her head. "Oh no, I'd much rather be on _your _pole."

Bishamonten had gaped, the hired arm candy had glared, and Taishakuten had laughed, bought Shashi a drink, and sent the other women away. He'd figured she was some sort of prostitute, but he'd found out, after a night of extremely enjoyable sex, that she did it for free.

Well, not really for _free_: she'd told him she was on birth control and gotten pregnant a month later. Most of his higher-ups had been ready to take her out at the slightest signal (a certain black-clad hitman had gleefully suggested arson), but Taishakuten, for reasons no one else completely understood, had been intrigued by Shashi's manipulative personality and married her. She'd gotten a life of luxury, he'd gotten a private hooker who'd do anything, and they deserved each other, really.

Sure, she screwed around and plotted behind the scenes, but he screwed around too and was more than a match for her machinations, so that was fine. It worked. The only problem, he often thought, was Tenou.

It was a source of tremendous frustration to Taishakuten that his son thought the planet would be okay if everybody pulled together and sang "Kumbaya". No other underworld boss had that problem.

Tenou had to know what Taishakuten was, he _had _to. If the playdates watched by armed men and the looks of fear he got whenever he went anywhere with his father hadn't tipped him off, the private jets complete with missiles must have.

Had Taishakuten cared about his only child's mental state, and actually listened to Tenou's therapist instead of having her killed with what had been made to look like a freak gas pipe explosion, he would have realized that Tenou had an overdeveloped sense of guilt for what his father did. However, he lacked the courage to confront him about it.

As it was, the mob boss thought it was all his wife's fault. Shashi was laboring under the mistaken impression that their son should be shielded from the unsavory facts of existence, and made a habit of telling him that Taishakuten was a businessman who traveled an awful lot.

Never mind that _she_ had been the one to request that Dr. June be taken out after the therapist had told Tenou that his mother controlled him, and that he needed to "spread his wings and ride the winds of his own life". No, her husband was needlessly aggressive and her baby boy (who was twenty by now) couldn't handle it.

"My _dear _wife," Taishakuten told Shashi finally, having finished admiring himself for now, "I'm surprised you let our pathetic son out of your sight. Letting him go off on his own into the backstabbing, cruel world of business…"

"Oh, he can handle it," she sighed, flapping a languid hand. Tenou wasn't going to get killed in an office so it didn't matter to her.

"Shashi, Tenou is a wimp. We should never have let him go to that hippie college. He came back talking about world peace and wanted to go to Uganda as a service project."

She sighed again. "You're right, he is a fragile soul. Do you remember his reaction when his dog died? He didn't talk at all for a week!"

Shashi applied lipstick expertly as Taishakuten smirked, "Oh yes, I remember. I shot that damn retriever because it chewed up one of my designer socks, after all."

"Yes, and I had a very hard time indeed convincing him Fluffy had been hit by a car." Shashi snapped her mirror shut. "The bullet hole in her forehead naturally made him suspicious."

"The fact that you succeeded does not inspire confidence in his powers of logic, Shashi," Taishakuten muttered.

That Friday, Kujaku spent a ridiculous amount of time deciding what to wear to the bar. For a minute he considered going all-out, tight leather pants and mesh shirt. But that tended to get him a variety of stunned looks from the general populace and attention from hillbillies, who either wanted to smash his face in for offending them with his sexuality, or leer at him while drawling "Yer awful purdy. Sure yew ain't a woman?"

Besides, Yasha had always hated when Kujaku pulled something like that. Yasha had _especially_ hated having to pull Kujaku off a redneck before he ended up kicking Good Ol' Billy-Bob in the face.

So the agent turned his mental music from Adam Lambert to Luther Vandross, dressed in an oxford shirt and chinos, and stuck three condoms in his pocket just in case he got very, very lucky. He'd stayed away from other partners, but Yasha had a kid now, and who knew what _he'd _been up to?

_Yasha…_

They'd met in a grocery store, of all places. Kujaku had been pondering the relative advantages of raspberry-filled donuts versus custard-filled donuts when he'd noticed a pretty stock girl soundly rejecting Yasha's polite offer of dinner. The stoic man's shoulders had slumped, and Kujaku had said impulsively, more to cheer him up than anything else, "Hey, _I'll _go to dinner with you if _she _won't!"

Yasha had turned a disbelieving, midnight blue gaze on him, then he had laughed through his acute embarrassment and accepted. Kujaku had forgotten his donuts, and by the time they'd had dessert, he had known that this was the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Yasha had seemed a little stunned by it all, but one date grew into two, then three, then four, then morphed from a hesitant kiss into passionate lovemaking.

And so they'd moved in together, and Yasha had never had to ask any stock girls out again. Kujaku had been so happy that he'd been considering giving up the job and becoming a chartered accountant, or something nauseatingly boring like that, because Yasha worried about him.

But the job had gotten dangerous, suddenly and vehemently. Finally Twelve's sister had been kidnapped and killed, and after the funeral, Kujaku had looked at Yasha sleeping innocently beside him and made the hardest decision of his life.

He'd packed his bags, left Yasha an awkward note ("It's not you, it's me") and focused all his attention on taking down the bastards who might threaten his man. It had taken two long, stressful years, and he'd almost caved and called Yasha nearly a thousand times, but he'd stayed firm.

And that had been a huge mistake. When he'd finally left the terrorist gang of yahoos who'd made everyone's life hell sitting in various detention cells, Kujaku had showed up at the house they'd shared and been nearly bowled over in shock when a woman in her fifties answered the door.

"Yasha Yama? He doesn't live here anymore. I moved in two years ago. He sold it to me cheap." She'd given the distraught man in front of her an appraising look. "Does he owe you money?"

Kujaku's questions about Yasha's whereabouts had been met with blank puzzlement. "I have no idea. He didn't tell _me _where he was going, but why would he?"

Kujaku had thanked her in a daze, called the number he'd memorized, and been told by an automated voice that the number he was attempting to reach was no longer in service. Hanging up before it asked him to press pound for more options, he'd frantically dialed Rasetsu Yama's line, only to be told in no uncertain terms by Yasha's big brother that Kujaku was _not _to go after him.

"Yasha was so upset that he was practically hospitalized. If you call his work, I will take out a restraining order against you, Valentine." With that, Rasetsu had hung up and Kujaku had stared at his phone like it had bitten him.

He'd gone back to DC, told Twelve he wanted a transfer, and considered tattooing Yasha's face on his body by himself, with no anesthetic and a .90 ballpoint pen, as a form of self-inflicted punishment. Instead he'd gotten something else and taken lessons in defensive bicycling.

He'd earned a reputation as a slightly quirky agent who had no personal life and enjoyed singing "Kujaku Claus Is Coming To Town" as he monitored criminals, giggling as he reached the part about "he sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake, he knows if you've been bad or good so be good for goodness' sake!" Twelve would look on, wondering if he should have Playboy One mentally evaluated by a professional.

Nobody in the entire agency knew what was going on, and nobody really cared, because Kujaku was very good at what he did. Sure, Twelve had had to go fetch him from an art museum once, where he'd been bawling at the top of his lungs and clinging to a nineteenth-century Japanese sculpture titled "Yasha no Kami", but except for that Kujaku was a cheerful guy. He lived for his work; he didn't even have a beta fish.

So now here he was, not thinking about the job for once, about to go follow the man he'd once thought about proposing to on bended knee as Yasha went to a bar called the Four Gods.

_What a silly name, _Kujaku thought to himself. _I hope it's not some crazy New Age dive where the bouncers ask you which level of enlightenment you're on instead of for your ID._

_Ooh, that was a clever one! I should write it down…_

Zouchouten was also trying to be clever. He'd noticed that his female bouncer smiled only once in a blue moon, and had decided that her face would look even lovelier if she occasionally cracked a grin.

He wasn't trying to be witty to make her like him, he assured himself. He was just trying to cheer up a woman who looked like she needed happiness in her life and who just _happened, _by sheer coincidence, to be beautiful and enjoyable to be around. Really.

And she'd just asked him a question. 

"Um, I'm sorry Skye, but could you repeat that, please?" He had been far away in a land of smiling Skyes, which had brought a smile to his face as well.

"I said, 'Is this fire escape up to code?' If there was a fire and we needed to get out, I think it might kill someone, judging by the condition of the door. And," she frowned, "we could get sued."

He pondered how he could make a quip about that, decided he couldn't, and sighed. "The door's actually getting replaced this week, and the fire escape itself is in wonderful condition. We had it checked out pretty recently."

She nodded, businesslike and unsmiling. "That's good, but I've noticed that one of the loading doors is cracked near the bottom. Come on, I'll show you." She walked off briskly, and deciding to abandon any hope of making her laugh, he followed. They passed the storage room, where Aguni had smuggled in brownies and she and Vahyu were discussing men they'd like to sleep with.

"_Koumokuten?_" Vahyu was saying, incredulous and rather disgusted. "Really?"

"Oh, yes." Aguni leered wolfishly. "He has that whole dungeon vibe down pat."

"Probably because he'd like nothing better than to chain attractive women up and make them his sex slaves," Vahyu snorted, and she laughed.

"That's why it would be so fun to lash him to the bed and have him beg, and if he talks back there's the added bonus of gagging him. Besides," she took a brownie, "he keeps telling me how big he is, and I'm inclined to believe him."

"Aguni, if you're looking for sheer size, you'd do better with Zou. Judging by the front of his jeans, the man is hung like –"

"That is so fuckin' sick, Vahyu. Save that sort of faggotry for your private homo jerkoff sessions," Koumokuten snapped, sticking his head through the door. "What are you two doing in here, anyway? Move! Move!"

Vahyu flushed and hustled out, Aguni went back into the kitchen, and Koumokuten caught sight of what they'd been concealing. "Brownies?"

He picked one up, took a bite, and smiled broadly. "Mine now, suckers." Carrying off the plate, he went to hide it so he wouldn't have to share.

Yasha hated bars. He hated them with a passion. The noise, the pressure to do very stupid things, the constant contact with people who would not take no for an answer… He glared at the woman who'd just leaned onto the counter next to him, her low-cut top displaying more cleavage than a rap video.

He sighed in resignation. He was here because Ashura wanted him to be social, and Kumaraten had finally worn him down about coming here because his wife loved the band that was playing tonight. But _where_ were Kumaraten and Kahra? _They're held up in traffic, in their nice, quiet car, and __I'm__ here in the ninth circle of introvert hell._

Yasha sipped his nonalcoholic beer (he'd driven himself) and managed not to groan as the woman invading his personal space grinned. "I'm Cindi. With an 'I'. What's your name?"

"My name is Yasha, and I'm not interested," he told her firmly, taking another drink.

It didn't work, and she put a hand on his arm. "That's such a _nice _name. Say, do you wanna –"

A familiar voice broke in then. "He told you to back off, lady. So back the heck off." Yasha turned very slowly, both hoping and not hoping that he would see –

"Kujaku," he breathed, and the other man smiled. "Long time no see, Yasha. What are you doing here?"

"Being harassed," he sighed, and Kujaku tuned a scathing glare to Cindi-with-an-I. "Go back to your girlfriends. He's not interested."

"What, you gay or something? This your boyfriend?" Cindi whined. "Damn, why do I always pick the gorgeous gay guys?"

"No, 'boyfriend' is the wrong word." Kujaku's eyes were dangerous, and Yasha had a horrible sense of foreboding before Kujaku said happily, "Former lover. We used to pound each other into the mattress, lady."

Yasha was vaguely aware of Cindi saying something like, "Can I watch?", but the memories were rising up and he couldn't concentrate on anything else.

"_Ku…Kujaku!"_

_Yasha hated how breathless and needy he sounded, but damn it, he wanted Kujaku so badly. Too bad he couldn't do anything about that, as the handcuffs on his wrists kept him securely shackled to the bedposts._

_Kujaku smirked, obviously content, at least for now, to keep his lover like that. "Yes?" he prompted nonchalantly, as if he didn't have the other man cuffed naked and aroused to the bed. _

"_Please…just…please, Kujaku!" _

_Kujaku idly toyed with a strand of his hair, although it was obvious that he was equally aroused by this. "Well, Yasha, I'd hate to have you come too soon during the actual sex, so…" He traced a finger along the most desperate part of Yasha's anatomy, his smile growing as his actions caused just the reaction he was hoping for. _

"_Ah!"_

_Kujaku leaned in, but stopped just a few inches short of his goal. Looking into Yasha's eyes, he whispered, "Tell me you want it."_

_Yasha gritted his teeth, but the sultry expression on Kujaku's face proved his undoing. "Please. Please, Kujaku, please! I'm begging you, Kuja–!"_

_He was cut off as the other man licked him, then plunged his mouth down. He was an expert at this, and it wasn't long before Yasha felt his climax approaching. When Kujaku looked up at him, those purple eyes half-lidded, it was all over._

_The longhaired man panted in the aftermath, his need lessened now but still present. The sight of Kujaku licking his lips helped, of course._

_Kujaku grinned. "So…what should we do next…?"_

Yasha blinked, dispelling the memories. Cindi was gone, and Kujaku was looking at him knowingly. Frowning now, Yasha asked the other man, "Why are you here? I don't believe you've come all this way just to get me back."

Kujaku laughed, and Yasha's heart thumped a bit painfully at the sound. He'd loved Kujaku madly and passionately then, and it seemed that he still had feelings for him now.

Feelings that he was not going to give in to, however. He glared at the violet-eyed son of a bitch. "Actually, you know what, don't answer that. You're no doubt on some sort of mission for your little 'security company' that never existed."

Kujaku blinked in shock. He had indeed told Yasha that he worked for a private contractor; he'd even had a couple agents come to the door once in an armored car with a fake logo so Yasha wouldn't get suspicious. No sense making him a target or letting him ask embarrassing questions, Kujaku had figured.

"Um, well, you know, we –"

Yasha would have none of it. "Don't lie to me. You're peerless at that, and I despise it," he snapped. "You can tell the greatest falsehoods with a silver tongue and the rest of this world will praise it as unbroken verity, but _I _will not, not anymore."

Kujaku, impressed with Yasha's vocabulary, tried another tactic. "No, really, I'm here for–"

"Stop that," the bespectacled man snarled. "I just have one question for you: why'd you leave like that, with a note and no calls?"

Kujaku gazed at him helplessly. _Because I loved you so damn much, and people were being assassinated left and right, and if you'd gotten killed I would have lost it and caused massive collateral damage and loss of innocent life, and when it was all over and I could come back I found out you'd moved and wanted nothing to do with me…_

"You wouldn't understand," he said finally. "But it doesn't matter, I –"

"Oh, it matters, Kujaku. What you did broke me more thoroughly than if you'd stolen all of my money and set fire to the house." Yasha stood up. "You made me so weak and codependent on you that I could never get close to anyone else ever again."

"What about your son's mother?" Kujaku asked, feeling guiltier than when he'd crashed Twelve's new Blackhawk helicopter the week they'd gotten it.

Yasha glared. "He's adopted." With that, he turned and walked towards the door, stiff-backed and jaw clenched.

"Yasha, please don't –"

He was gone. Kujaku sat there staring blankly at the crowd for ten whole minutes.

"Are you okay? It's never that bad, sweetie," said the woman who had just sat down next to him. He turned to look at her, reminding himself that punching pregnant women was frowned upon in polite society, even if she _was _hitting on him.

But she wasn't, he realized. She was leaning her head against the man next to her, a diamond ring catching the light on the third finger of her left hand, and looking like she wanted to pat Kujaku's head and tell him that everything would be all right, while offering him chocolate-chip cookies to make him feel better.

"Honey, what have I told you about starting conversations with strange men?" her husband said in loving exasperation, giving Kujaku a "get the hell away from my wife" look.

"Oh Kumaraten, he's not going to make lewd suggestions. He's too sad." Kahra studied Kujaku. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Are you some sort of therapist?" he managed weakly.

"No, she is a bleeding heart who can't stand to see anyone in pain," Kumaraten snapped. (Huh, Kumaraten…Kujaku recognized him from somewhere, it didn't matter now.)

Kumaraten was still talking: "Sweetheart, here comes the bartender with your apple juice, and she looks solemn. Talk to her instead. Do it for me."

He turned back to purple-eyed guy with designs on his wife, only to find that he had left.

That was just fine with Kumaraten, but he did wonder where Yasha was. The Literature teacher was punctual to a fault; he was usually even early. He'd once showed up at their house for dinner at a _very _inconvenient time, and kept ringing the doorbell until a hastily dressed and incredibly frustrated Kumaraten had had to go downstairs and answer it.

Perhaps Yama had gotten lost?

Kumaraten decided that yes, the man was a dolt and couldn't follow simple directions even with a GPS. So he put his arm around Kahra and sipped his beer, and waited for the other man to show. He didn't, but at least the music was good.

(AN: Ah yes, now the story starts to get M-rated. Leaving aside Aguni and Vahyu's discussion, you got Yasha's little gay bondage flashback, which was of course much more explicit. Sorry!

…Or you're welcome, to those of you into yaoi.

Yasha and Kujaku's backstory is, I hope, slightly believable. It's angsty at times, but I can assure you, Kujaku will make Yasha (and hopefully you guys too) smile yet!

The bit about Kujaku learning defensive bicycling is a nod to the absolutely hilarious Simon Pegg movie "Hot Fuzz", where Sergeant Nicholas Angel takes classes in defensive driving and defensive bicycling. Go watch that movie if you never have, it's a real gem.

I should point out that Ashura is not Shashi's son here. For a bit, I considered having her seduce Agent Lord for Taishakuten so her husband could kill him, then realized that she would have no reason to give birth to Ashura if that had been the case. I toyed with the idea of her having an affair with him, but really, I think having Shashi and Ashura be completely unrelated makes a bit more sense here.

She comes off as quite a slut in this story, unfortunately, and believe it or not, I've come to rather like her. Not her methods, but her audacity to plot against Taishakuten. And she's manipulative to the extreme, and by the end we'll all see just what she's capable of.

Still, promiscuous men get labeled "studs" instead of "mansluts", and Shashi is really only as cheater-riffic as Taishakuten and Bishamonten, not more. It's just much more socially acceptable for a guy to have affairs, ya know.)


	8. Ku's Instincts Pay Off Again

Kujaku went back to the Four Gods every night for the next week in the desperate hope that Yasha would be there, but he never was. The agent heard Gandarajah and cheered its whirlwind of a lead singer, and fended off attention from beautiful women and a couple of men, and learned the drink menu by heart. He considered razor blades to the wrists briefly before he shook it off, because the world still needed his awesome self and all.

And as he spent so much time there, he could recognize major players in the place's daily workings: the beautiful flaming bouncer, the giant older guy, the mystic bartender, the stupid bartender, the no-nonsense female bouncer, and…a dark, scary-looking man who Kujaku was dead certain he'd seen before, either in person or in a photograph (Kujaku had a phenomenal memory for faces).

He tried to just let it go, because even if the pervy bar owner _was _some sort of criminal mastermind, he, Kujaku, was on _vacation, _darn it, and he had nobody here to back him up if the other man decided he had to be taken out for asking questions.

_I am going, _he told himself, nursing some drink he wasn't really tasting, _to ignore all the alarm bells going off in my head. Yasha is what matters now, dammit, and if he comes back and finds me playing spy games he will be very pissed off indeed._

But Yasha would never come back. Kujaku waited from when the bar opened to when it closed, and the teacher was nowhere in sight. On the eighth day, around midnight, he accepted this horrible fact with a sigh.

Oh well…he could console himself with the job. The job was always there, and always would be.

He looked up, fighting the urge to cry, and lo and behold, creepy dark guy was standing five feet away, talking to his huge friend.

"No," the bigger man was saying, "we will _not _be telling the waitresses that short skirts are the uniform. Some of them wear them already, dammit, and it's really very sexist to make the rest conform to _your –_"

"Z, c'mon, what's _wrong _with sexism? It's the natural order of things!"

Nope, Kujaku didn't like the man at all. Not one bit.

Z seemed to be unimpressed as well. "Absolutely not. Now look, I have to go find Skye, because she has a check she hasn't picked up. When I find you again, I hope you will have reconsidered your hormonally-driven idiocy."

He stomped off, and the other man muttered, "Z, I'm starting to think you're gay or something."

He stepped over to the counter next to Kujaku, and barked, "Hanranya! Gimme my goddamn tequila!" to the nearest bartender, who was busy with someone else.

Kujaku decided this was as good a chance as any. "Hi. Have we met before? You look kinda familiar," he told the other guy, holding out his hand in a friendly manner.

The black-clad person of interest just looked at him in pure disgust. "We sure as hell haven't, and it's gonna stay that way. Take a fucking hike, because I'm all man."

Kujaku blinked as the guy stalked away. _O-KAY then. I wouldn't touch you with a twenty-foot-pole, dude. Thanks for being so damn impolite. _He considered his limited options. Well, since Mr. Testosterone thought he was hitting on him _anyway_…

Kujaku opened half the buttons on his shirt and waved to the bartender. "Excuse me," he said breathily once he'd gotten her attention, "I'd like to by a drink for Dick over there."

She nodded. "Which one is he?"

He laughed evilly in his head and purred, "The one with the fetish for black and the ponytail. That may not be his real name, though. Dick Johnson just _screams_ pseudonym, but that's how he introduced himself last night."

Her mouth dropped open as she followed his gaze. "You mean…_Koumokuten?_"

"Ooh, that's such an _exotic_ name. Does he have a last one, or does he just go the Madonna rout?" Kujaku prodded, the little devil on his shoulder egging him on shamelessly.

"It's Oeste," she told him innocently. "From the Spanish, I believe."

"Koumokuten Oeste… send him a strawberry Margarita with two pink umbrellas on it. He doesn't have to drink it with me," Kujaku said generously, "but I _really_ want him to have it."

The bartender nodded, muttering something about repressed sexual energies, and obeyed with alarming speed.

Kujaku pulled out his phone and surreptitiously entered the name he'd been given, glancing up as his shocked new buddy received his drink. The furious Koumokuten looked over, and Kujaku blew him an exaggerated air kiss. He watched happily as the other man turned purple with rage, flicked him off, and slammed the margarita down, then stormed off with the bartender calling "Don't deny your _feelings, _Koumokuten!" after him.

Laughing under his breath, Kujaku pulled up the agency's database, not surprised at all to find some old information on Koumokuten. Most interestingly of all, he'd been associated years ago with a certain psychotic crimelord.

_Jackpot, biznatch. I knew you were bad news._

As Kujaku played spy games, Karura watched Zouchouten deal with a man who'd tried to get out of paying for his three drinks. She liked watching him. He was competent, pretty fair, and, she had to admit as a fighter herself, a thing of beauty when angry.

He of course had it easier than she did, being such a built male with a deep, commanding voice, and she'd picked up a couple tips from him on dealing with morons. This was surprising to her at first, as she was quite skilled at handling herself, but then she'd figured that one was always learning.

She had even, at one point, pondered asking him to come with her down to the shooting range. It had then dawned on her that he might think she was asking him out, so she decided not to because he might get uncomfortable. It had been a rather startling revelation that _she_ would _not _have been if he'd thought that.

He was attractive enough, in an older-guy and ridiculously well-muscled way. If one liked slender, beautiful boy-men with long gleaming hair and eyelashes that looked like they'd been brushed with mascara one wouldn't give him a second glance, but Karura had always kind of preferred looking at men who resembled, well, _men_. Zouchouten had probably been quite a catch when he was younger, and still seemed to garner attention from some people.

He wore casual clothes and commanded respect in them, which probably had something to do with the fact that he looked like he could bench-press a tractor, while telling you in no uncertain terms that you could be next. But he was genuinely _nice_ to her, and he always had been, and that was both strange and completely natural.

That was really why she liked him: the respect he gave her. He didn't coddle her, but he was friendly with her. Karura briefly found herself wondering what Gigei would think of Zouchouten before someone called her and she had to go deal with an idiot herself.

Kisshouten was quite pleased that dealing with Tenou was not dealing with an idiot: quite the contrary. He picked things up fast, read briefs on his lunch breaks (and as bedtime stories), and learned the daily workings of the CEO's office.

Of course, a number of executives had looked at their boss like she was insane when she'd introduced them to her new assistant, but nobody said anything to her face. She was of course aware that many people gave Tenou an "I don't know who you think you are, boy, but I'm the Vice President of This and That" talk… but he didn't whine about it.

Instead he smiled and said something like "I'm just an assistant, sir or ma'am. I would never dream of telling you what to do" (and he meant it), and he sailed on through.

She knew there was office hazing, and this had rather worried her because after all, Tenou was Taishakuten's son. But he took it and smiled cheerfully and seemed to be having a rather wonderful time.

He was nothing like Taishakuten. Kisshouten (and an awful lot of other people) privately wondered if the polite young man was a legacy of his mother's reputation as a woman who wasn't very faithful. Tenou was self-motivated to a fault, considerate to a fault, and downright sweet to a fault.

Perhaps a nurse had switched the basinets?

Whoever his father or mother might be, he was indeed an asset. And she found herself liking him quite a bit. He listened well, and though he seemed to think, like almost everyone else, that she loved Bishamonten, he was otherwise quite an astute young man.

So over a month had passed and she found herself telling him stupid, non-work related things because she was lonely and he seemed rather lonely too. She told him she liked roses, she told him her mother had died when she'd been twelve, and she told him she loved horses…little things like that.

She didn't know it, but he filed them away in his mind as "Things My Boss Mentions" in case he ever needed them. He probably never would, but it was good to be prepared. Suppose at some point he needed to get her a card, or maybe choose new stationary, or something. He would make sure it was stationary she _liked_, because his boss was awesome.

Tenou wondered for a while if he should tell Kisshouten what her husband was. After all, she was such a good human being, and she didn't deserve to be tied to a man who liked killing people and sleeping with other women.

_I really should say something like, "Kisshouten, your husband is a horrible, horrible person, and I once saw him committing adultery with my mom. I think they're still fooling around, actually, and you deserve to know the truth. Because I respect you. And you're just…so… yeah…"_

That was as far as he ever got, actually, because his train of thought always morphed into a Hollywood-esque scene of Kisshouten bawling into his shoulder while he patted her back soothingly, being all noble and there for her.

He'd say, "Kisshouten, let me help you. I can sic the police on him, and testify in court."

And she'd look at him with teary eyes and say, "Oh Tenou, what would I ever do without you? You're so sweet…"

And then occasionally, if he was really into this little scene, she'd lean forward and he'd lean forward and –

He always pressed the "power" button and shut off the mental movie then. That was _bad. _His boss was _married. _Yes of course to a, well, _not nice_ man, but she had the wedding ring and she obviously loved the guy, he thought, biting his lip.

And that was why he decided not to tell her. He wouldn't ruin her happiness. And who knows, maybe Bishamonten, for all he was a terrible person everywhere else, loved her in some way too.

So Tenou concentrated on ignoring such inappropriate feelings and, more than anything, helping Kisshouten as a friend. It was more than enough. It was nice to work for someone who smiled at him and really listened, and never talked down to him. He actually thought he was quite lucky to work for such a person, and have that person like him back.

And then, one fine day when the sun was shining and Tenou was feeling good about his life, his father's right-hand man showed up at the office.

Bishamonten walked in like he owned the place, not bothering to knock, clad in his expensive tailored suit and his power tie. Tenou looked up, pausing in the act of handing Kisshouten a proposal. She looked up as well and froze.

"Ah…business as usual, I see," Bishamonten chuckled. "How very profitable for Taishakuten." He looked over at Tenou. "And such a wonderful job you must be doing."

He moved forward, a cobra on the carpet, as Kisshouten gulped and Tenou smiled, rather nervously. He didn't like the other redhead, but he was Kisshouten's husband, and she would surely get upset, Tenou told himself firmly, if he yelled at Bishamonten for what he'd done to Shashi (Tenou was of the mistaken impression that his mother was otherwise faithful).

Kisshouten didn't rise to greet Bishamonten, and Tenou was a little confused by this. Wasn't she doing it all for him, didn't she love the guy? Otherwise, why would she stay with him?

Plucking the proposal from Tenou's hand, Bishamonten murmured, "Why don't you sit down" to him.

The younger man nodded and stepped back, and his father's subordinate stepped behind Kisshouten, who looked like she was frozen in both fear and loathing. She faced resolutely away, and Tenou was now getting the horrible feeling that he had been _very_ wrong about the nature of her relationship with her husband.

"Kisshouten," Bishamonten purred, settling a hand around her elegant neck, lightly enough to be a caress but an unmistakable act of dominance, "I'd like you to fulfill your obligations to me."

Tenou stared helplessly as her eyes widened. "Bishamonten, please, not now. My assistant and I were working on –"

"Ah yes," the older man smiled, "the boy is still in the room." He turned to his boss's son. "Take a long lunch, Tenou. And if the door's locked when you come back, take another one."

"Tenou, please, just go," Kisshouten begged. Her assistant was stock-still in offended shock. "_Please!_"

Bishamonten smirked at him in evil triumph, and Tenou found himself nodding, walking out as if in a trance, then leaning against the just-locked door. He stared at the opposite wall blankly, then, trying not to cry at what he'd just witnessed, walked down the hallway with poor Kisshouten's weeping echoing in his mind.

As Bishamonten locked one office door, Kujaku opened another. He'd gotten on the phone to Twelve and convinced him he needed his team here. After all, he had a possible lead on Taishakuten now.

Twelve had said exasperatedly, "Ku, can't you turn off for once?"

_Yeah, I did, for a month. And I feel worse than I did before, Twelve._

Kujaku shook his head. He'd deal with that later. …Well okay, maybe he _was_ using this Oeste thing as an excuse to stay and wait for Yasha, but hey, if he got the goods who could blame him for it?

So he strolled into the nondescript room, in a nondescript office building, wearing his best nondescript suit…and smiled at his not at all nondescript main players. There were three of them: there had been five but two of those had fallen in love and gotten married. They were out of the game, but that was okay, because Kujaku still had three people he'd trust his life to. And he had, multiple times.

He grinned at them. "Hey guys. We ready?"

"Yes, Ku."

"Uh-huh, Ku."

"Oh yes _indeedie, _Ku! I had extra coffee today and I took my meds!"

Kujaku high-fived the last speaker, and studied him.

Justin Hopkins ("Just 'Just'!") was a little strange even without his antipsychotic medications; he bred exotic frogs and thought leprechauns were behind his mother's untimely demise. But he knew every form of combustion and weapon known to humankind, and Kujaku liked him. Off his meds, of course, Just was a raving whacko, but Kujaku could simply point him in the direction of enemies, say "Sic 'em!" in a commanding tone, and sit back and watch the bodies fly, so that was okay, really.

Twelve didn't think so. But then, Just had told him once that his bawling, infant firstborn looked like Emperor Palpatine and offered to perform an exorcism on little Robert Jr., so that was to be expected. A few more years, Kujaku was sure, and they'd be the best of friends.

Or at least Just would stop asking Twelve if his son had turned Ewan, the family guinea pig, to the Dark Side yet.

Shara Smith was a different matter altogether. The woman looked like all innocent and sweetly naïve, but she could have you cuffed and on the ground in seconds, even if you were armed. She had exceedingly long hair that she braided in elaborate styles, and always carried a switchblade with her.

But she really was sweet, and actually doted on her Huskies, which she had of course brought to Tenkai City with her. Kujaku remembered that Yasha's brother Rasetsu bred Huskies himself, and made a mental note to give Shara Rasetsu's number.

Tyrone Smythe, the third member of their team, looked like a younger Denzel Washington and had to practically beat adoring women off with a stick. A genius with information retrieval and still pretty good at everything else, Smythe had spent his childhood being shy, and then apparently one day decided that he was going to be Batman. He'd earned a black belt in Taekwondo and spent his free time designing computerized weapons, which he proudly showed off to anyone who would sit still long enough to listen.

That usually only happened one time per person, for reasons Agent Smythe was completely perplexed by.

_And then there's Playboy One_, Kujaku thought, _the sexiest, smartest, and downright coolest agent you ever did see. Damn, I love being Federal Agent Kujaku J. Valentine. My codename's a stroke of genius, too. It should be, since I thought of it myself._

Smythe cleared his throat, noticing that the team lead had gone into preening mode. "Ku, I found the info on Oeste you wanted."

Kujaku stopped running his hand through his thick, wavy hair and crossed over to Smythe, who had his laptop open. "Let me guess…he's bad news."

"Oh, yes." Shara and Just joined the other two. "Koumokuten Oeste, called 'Black Lucifer' years ago, was born in 1968 in Chicago, spent his high school years as a gang member, and then spent an awful lot of time running around threatening various people with illegally-obtained firepower. In 1987, he was linked with an up-an-coming criminal mastermind named Taishakuten King, and was pretty high-ranked in the latter's organization, we think."

_I knew it, _Kujaku thought. _Ku's instincts pay off again._

"In '91," Smythe continued, enlarging a picture of Koumokuten flipping off a rabbi, "Oeste did one final job for King, collected his reward, and disappeared off the grid. If anyone noticed at the time, they probably thought he'd been taken care of. Apparently he was turning over a new leaf instead. Except for one arrest in December of that year for intoxication and assault, he kept his head down. He even paid child support for his daughter Tamara."

"Have we talked to her?" Kujaku asked, and Smythe sighed. "We tried to, but her mother told us to get the hell off of her lawn, that she paid taxes and was a good upstanding citizen, and then, as our agents were turning to go, that her only contact with her ex was when her daughter made them talk to each other on the phone."

He nodded as he clicked something. "I'm inclined to believe her. By all means they hate each other now. She never sees him and he sends her those checks and has no desire to see her, and why would he? He owns a _bar_, for chrissake."

Shara frowned then. "Do you suppose he's really innocent this time?" she asked, sounding like she was trying to convince herself that "innocent until proven guilty" still held in this situation.

"By law, I have to assume he is until we get sufficient evidence otherwise," Smythe hedged, then shook his head. "Personally? I think the guy's a cottonmouth snake: dangerous as hell. I mean, does he _look _like a decent person to you?"

Everyone looked closely at another picture of Koumokuten, this time at a shooting range, smirking at his cutout target with eight bullet holes through its head.

"Not at _all,_" Just proclaimed fervently, and Kujaku nodded. "So. Let's see the information on everybody else at that bar."

Smythe nodded and clicked a few keys, and the screen showed a picture of a dark-skinned woman with blonde hair and a razor-sharp smile. "Aguni Leonidas. Head cook. 30 years old, with possible sociopathic tendencies. Not to the Hannibal extreme, but I'd watch out for her."

Kujaku nodded as the picture changed.

"Hanranya Monk. 29 years old, with a fiancé named Hans 'Countersue _This_' Guttmannson. Estranged from her psychologist sister, which is too bad, because Hanranya thinks the ley lines keep the drinks on tap from running out."

Kujaku pondered which employee of the Four Gods he could get the most information out of, letting info on most of them go in one ear and out the other, because they didn't seem, well, knowledgeable enough. What he _needed_ was somebody who spent a lot of time there and would cooperate with him –

"Now here's an interesting person: Karura Skye." Everyone observed the clip of a white-haired woman throwing a Hell's Angel onto the sidewalk casually and professionally. "Formerly Officer K. R. Skye of Tenkai City's police force."

"What's she doing at a bar?" Shara asked.

"Working. She was stripped of her badge for assaulting a murder suspect."

"Oh, a loose cannon," Kujaku said wisely, then stared as Smythe shook his head emphatically. "Absolutely not. The man was on trial for killing her little sister. Apparently Skye saluted, cleaned out her locker immediately, and never came back to the station again after the police chief canned her. And before you ask, yes, that guy _did _shoot the poor kid, and it was proven beyond the shadow of a doubt."

Kujaku's eyes softened. "That's sad. Still," he decided, "maybe we can talk to her."

"She's probably the best bet, but anyone you try to mine for information will be watched like a hawk by…" he clicked more keys, "Zouchouten Southland. Born in 1961, served in the army, and actually _does _keep those drinks on tap from running out. That bar is his life, and if you go in there and start asking questions he'll find out and corner you. I would hate to be trapped by that guy, and getting around him's going to be a problem."

Kujaku considered this. "So why not ask _him_ the questions? Smythe, find me something I can impress him with. It's always easier if you can show someone we're the ones in charge right from the get-go."

Smythe nodded. "I'll start digging right away."

"Is he in on it, do you think?" Shara asked Kujaku, who pondered this for a while.

"Maybe. I mean, Oeste's his business partner and friend, and Southland _was _in the military, so he undoubtedly knows what to do with a gun. I'm not ruling out a former association with our good buddy Tai either. However," Kujaku smiled slightly, "knocking him for a loop might be just the game I need to keep from getting bored…"

When Tenou returned to the office after two long, self-disgusted hours, he found a subdued, even paler than usual Kisshouten typing furiously on her computer.

"Kisshouten, I'm sor–"

She shook her head emphatically. "No. No, don't say that. You couldn't have done a thing, Tenou. You know what he is."

Tenou did _indeed _know what Bishamonten was, and he was kicking himself for not realizing what he was to Kisshouten as well. "Are you…are you okay?" he tried, biting his lip.

She sighed, a hopeless sound. "Yes. I'm used to this, Tenou. This is how it's always been." She met his eyes. "And you must _never _tell anyone here."

She expected him to argue, but instead he just nodded, looking indescribably sad. "I won't."

She studied him, sad herself. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

_Me too. _But he smiled then, placing something on her desk. "I brought you a sandwich."

She stared at the pastrami and cheese sub he'd just put down. It was an unmistakable offering, an acknowledgement of "I understand you. It's okay. We'll pretend it never happened and get on with our work".

She stared at him helplessly, and he stared right back, and they really _did _understand each other, two traumatized souls adrift in a maelstrom of evil.

As a small child of five, Tenou had hidden in his father's office and watched as Taishakuten tortured a low-level thug who had failed him to death, crying in terrified silence and hugging his stuffed kitty toy like it would all go away if he squeezed hard enough. Kisshouten had been repeatedly raped by a man she could never escape from. Both had broken and grown a shell over the fracture, and while it had never fully healed, they'd gone on living because there was nothing else they could do about it.

"Thank you, Tenou." It was a heartfelt whisper, and Kisshouten actually smiled then. "Let's see what you've been doing with the Amend proposal."

"Sure thing. Now, I know Pembrook wanted a leverage buyout, but…"

The wind brought in clouds outside the window, and life went on.

(AN: I told you this had AU relationships, didn't I? Shashi/Bishamonten and Tenou with a crush on Kisshouten are so very un-canon. But, since Kendappa has Souma and there was really no way to get Tenou in contact with the musician, here he has a different object of affection. And Bishamonten/Shashi will be explained later.

I found Shara rather bland in the manga but I did like her, so here she's a gun-toting secret agent. She was Rasetsu's wife, so maybe at some point the two of them will fall in love over Huskies?

Smythe is a personal background character for here, but Just is actually a creation of my brother for an original story. Hopkins is a few fries short of a Happy Meal, but he's good with things that go "boom" and does indeed have an overwhelming obsession with frogs. And the name of Hanranya's fiancé is another inside joke. Don't worry, none of them have really big roles.

And speaking of jokes, who figured out where I got the name for Twelve's guinea pig? Props to you if you did. Same with the Amend proposal and the name of the executive who wanted a buyout. And Aguni's last name.

I know that poor Kisshouten's story is _not _funny, not funny at all. I felt bad about doing this to her, but it can't all be sweetness and light and silly Kujaku… there had to be some serious bits as well. Every storyline will in time get quite serious, and Kisshouten, let's all hope, might get some sweetness herself. She deserves it!

And speaking of silly Kujaku… the next chapter, in my opinion, is the funniest one. See Ku show up on Yasha's doorstep, and (hopefully) laugh really, really hard. I did when I wrote it.)


	9. It's Even Vodka

**Chapter Nine: It's Even Vodka**

Kujaku, having made all the necessary plans, was about to go see Yasha. He would show up on his doorstep and not move until the teacher heard him out. He'd even stowed camping gear in his car, just in case.

He was on a _mission, _one he had mentally codenamed "Snugglebunnies". The ultimate goal of Snugglebunnies? Have a beaming Yasha get it on with him, having won Yasha's heart and Ashura's trust and maybe even after getting the nanny to like him. Today's less-encompassing yet vital objective? Introduce himself to the kid and the older kid. They'd love him, Kujaku thought proudly. He was just that awesome.

And if he was lucky Yasha might decide he'd been too harsh on Kujaku. He might fling himself into the operative's arms and say, "I've misjudged you. Come on inside. I'll send my son and the nanny away and we can catch up. And then…we can make love."

With this unrealistic but happy thought in mind, Kujaku fastened his seatbelt. Yes, it was time to heat things up.

Things were getting hotter at the Four Gods right then, but in a different way. A PMSing Karura had just snapped at Varuna and stormed into the loading bay, only to be followed by a tired-looking Zouchouten.

"What," she snarled, "do you _want?_"

"I want you to tell me what's going on, Skye. You've been very rude to everyone today, and I want to know why." He crossed his arms and blocked the door, as she had just realized she couldn't get out because the loading doors were closed.

She glared. "I'm just angry right now, that's all."

And, he thought somewhat guiltily, she was absolutely stunning when she was angry. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes were flashing, and her body was tense, her fists clenched at her sides.

He sighed and leaned against the door. "Yeah, I got that sense. We all get angry, I get angry an awful lot here. But you're usually so calm. I've never seen you this upset."

He was right, she realized. This was a bad cycle; despite her hormone-regulation birth control pills this happened about once a year, brought on by stress. But she felt too embarrassed to admit this to Zouchouten, because he might think she was some weepy _weak _person who couldn't play with the big boys.

He asked seriously, "Is someone bothering you? You don't have to put up with harassment, we have a good policy on –"

"No." Karura shook her head. "I'm just…having a hard time at home," she lied.

"Oh." He nodded understandingly. "Is Garuda all right?"

She sighed, calming down a bit. "Yes, he's doing wonderful." She thought about saying, "He likes to say your name because I say it a lot", realized that might startle Zouchouten, and settled for, "Life is just difficult."

He uncrossed his arms and pushed off from the door. "You can always talk to me. I'll listen."

He was making no move to leave or let her leave herself, so she approached him cautiously. Standing in front of the steps that led to where he stood, she admitted, "I feel like I'm running in place sometimes."

Zouchouten sat down on the steps, leaning forward and crossing his arms on his knees. "And why is that, Skye?"

She reached out a hand and touched the railing. "I don't know. I mean, I tried so hard to be a good police officer, I tried to be the 'good girl', even though I hate that term." She met his eyes. "And when I got kicked off the force, it was like all I'd done didn't matter."

"And now here you are working in a bar." His voice was soft, unaccusing, but she flinched.

"I mean, I like it here, I really do," she assured him honestly. "It's just, you know..."

"Yes. You never really think you're going to end up working in a gin joint, huh?" A corner of his mouth lifted. "My mother hit the roof. I was thirty-one years old, and my _mother _hit the roof, because her son, who'd seen people blown to bits in combat, was going to get killed by winos."

"Your mother sounds like my father," Karura sighed. "He wanted me to be a vet, because pets can't shoot you or stab you or beat you up. He said he tensed every time he heard the doorbell ring."

"Parents do things like that." He studied her. "When I was growing up, I always thought that if I ever had a kid, I'd let them run free. But now, having seen all the danger out there…I can't blame my mom."

He grinned then. "She came down here one night, about a year before she died. She liked the band and she had a drink, and when Koumokuten teased her and said 'Damn, Mrs. Southland, you're a MILF!' she laughed and said, 'Damn straight you'd like to fuck me.' I just stood there in shock that she knew that term as they high-fived."

Karura laughed. "She sounds fun."

"She was. But I've led us off-topic." Zouchouten turned serious again. "You're an asset, Skye. I like having you here. You do a good job, and I think you may be the best bouncer I've ever had."

She took a step up, looking down at him for once, then took a deep breath and said, "I'm menstruating. That's why I'm so bitchy."

Her cheeks were red. This was quite a difficult admission to make, to her male boss she liked a lot, maybe in a couple different ways. _Please don't laugh at me. Don't say something like "Oh, hormones…women are such weird creatures."_

"Oh." He seemed immensely relieved. "I was afraid I'd done something."

Confused and feeling much lighter, Karura said, "No, of course not. I would have told you if you had."

Zouchouten chuckled. "Glad to hear that. Now," he stood up, "let's go back in."

He considered offering her a hand, but she probably wouldn't have taken it. She was climbing the steps already anyway. So he opened the door and walked back down to the barroom, Karura right behind him.

"Tamara, there is no way in hell I'm buying you a car," Koumokuten was saying into his phone exasperatedly. "Get your mother to do that, I pay her enough child support to –"

He caught sight of Zouchouten. "Gotta go. Oh, and Tamara, once again…happy birthday. Yeah…No, I won't be coming over. But I did call, y'know. Hope you get whatcha want. 'Kay bye." He shut the phone off and glared. "Do _not_ look at me like that, Z," he warned. "You're such a fuckin' softy."

Zouchouten glowered at his un-paternal friend. "No wonder your daughter feels the need to act out, Koumokuten. For God's sake, you treat her like –"

"You wanna be her father instead?" Koumokuten snapped, patience unraveling. "Be my guest. She thinks you're awesome anyway, and her mother encourages it because she hates me."

Karura watched this exchange, perturbed. The bar owners looked dangerously close to blows; this was apparently an ongoing point of contention.

Zouchouten snapped back, "Well why wouldn't she hate you? You dumped her when she got pregnant with the daughter you ignore. I mean, that's just cruel."

"And her lawyer took me to the cleaners, so what's your point? She's doing just fine for herself," Koumokuten snorted, turning to Varuna. "Here's a tip: always use contraception. Always. Double it if you can."

"Um…okay?" Varuna replied weakly.

"What are you lookin' at?" Koumokuten snarled, noticing Karura. "This is none of your damn business."

"Koumokuten, don't take your venom out on her. _She _didn't do anything to you," Zouchouten warned him, with the smug air of a man who either took his own venom out on the person who'd pissed him off right then and there, or saved it until he could unleash it on a hapless punching bag.

"Fuck you, Z. Don't make me break this bottle on your head," Koumokuten threatened, grabbing the closest one to hand as everyone else took a step back.

Zouchouten stared at him for one second, two – and then he started to laugh.

_He's finally snapped,_ Karura thought in complete pity as Zouchouten's shoulders shook with mirth and his laughter grew in volume. _The stress was just too much and now he'll have to spend the next month in an off-white room, kept away from sharp objects and telling complete strangers his innermost feelings if he ever wants to get out._

"What, again?" Zouchouten finally managed, and Koumokuten started to chuckle himself. "It's even vodka!"

Koumokuten glanced at the bottle and started to guffaw. "It fucking well _is, _damn!" Just like that, the tension evaporated.

_Well, at least he won't be alone in the psych ward, _Karura thought in bemusement, as Zouchouten leaned into the counter for balance and Koumokuten started to choke from lack of oxygen, both of them laughing their heads off.

She looked over at Varuna, who seemed just as confused as she was, and then Aguni, who'd come out to see what was going on and now looked rather disappointed that there hadn't been blood.

"I have no idea," the head cook told Karura. "This must be some inside joke." They watched as their bosses finally calmed down, the bigger man pounding his business partner on the back to get him to breathe normally.

"Z, Z…" Koumokuten panted, smiling like a fool, "do you still have the scar?"

"Yeah," Zouchouten chuckled. "Do you still have yours?"

"Hell yeah."

Karura expected another round of slightly hysterical laughter, but instead Zouchouten and Koumokuten grinned at each other, shook hands, and then walked off in opposite directions, whistling.

Having decided that the fun was over, Aguni went back to the kitchen, arching an eyebrow at the idiocy of men; Varuna went back behind the counter, thinking that this must be an old-guy thing; and Karura stared after Zouchouten in complete bewilderment.

_Maybe he's just as hormone-crazed as I am right now…if only estrogen could be defeated, like testosterone apparently can be, by an inside joke._

Having just passed a bouncy Ashura off to his father, Ryuu waved to them both and turned to go. "See you tomorrow, guys." He opened the door just as a man wearing sunglasses raised his fist to knock on it. "Whoa!"

"Hi. You must be the nanny. Is Yasha home?" the guy asked cheerfully, and Ryuu stared at him openmouthed for a second. "Dude, I am a _babysitter_,"he told the newcomer snappishly. "Who are _you?_"

"Ryuu? Who's at the door?" Yasha loomed behind him, saw who it was, and turned red, then white, then settled for pink. "Kujaku."

"Yo." Kujaku waved.

"Yasha? Ryuuy? What's going on?" Ashura poked his head out from behind his father curiously, and Kujaku went down to his level and smiled. "Hello. My name's Kujaku, and –"

"And he was just leaving," Yasha growled. "Godda– I mean, _darn _it, Kujaku, you can't just –"

"Your daddy hasn't changed a bit," Kujaku said to Ashura brightly. "He once punched out a religious nutjob who wouldn't get off his porch."

Both Ashura's and Ryuu's eyes widened. "Really?" the little boy questioned. "Yasha, you always said that hitting people is _wrong._"

As Yasha sputtered in incoherent rage, Kujaku took off his sunglasses, revealing the most striking eyes anyone present had ever seen. "Your father's always been a very principled person, Ashura. That's why I like him so much."

"Wait…how do you know my name?" the six-year-old questioned, sounding not suspicious but overly curious. "And why are your eyes so pretty?"

Kujaku tossed his head. "Just lucky, I guess." Ashura tried to figure out which question the visitor had just answered.

"All right, that's enough." Yasha had found his voice. "Get off my front steps, Kujaku, I mean it. If you don't, I'll call the –"

"Yasha, I want Kujaku to come in! I like him!"

Ryuu stared at his charge. "Ashura, this guy could be an ax murderer for all you know!" He turned to look at Yasha, then groaned in exasperation. "No, dude, don't! You'll turn the kid into a spoiled brat if you keep giving him his way!"

But Yasha, who had a habit of giving Ashura his way more often than not (unless of course it was dangerous), had stepped back resignedly. "You may as well come in, Kujaku."

"Yay!" Ashura giggled in innocent glee. "Ryuuy, you stay too!"

Ryuu was about to say that he had homework, but one look at his charge's grouchy father made him think he might be better served by spoiling the kid. So he sighed and stepped back, letting the potential ax murderer in.

"Thanks, Mr. Nanny," Kujaku grinned, walking in like he was home. "My _goodness_, Yasha, what a _lovely _house you have."

"Kujaku, Kujaku!" Ashura grabbed his hand. "Sit by me, okay, Kujaku?"

As the beaming interloper allowed himself to be pulled over to the couch, Ryuu muttered, "_Oh _my God. This _cannot _be safe."

Yasha made himself unclench his jaw. "Kujaku won't hurt him," he told the skeptical Ryuu. "We were very good friends, and I trust him."

The teen gave him an "Uh-huh" look. "And that's why you threatened to call the police. 'Cause he's a trustworthy old friend. Yeah. Sure."

Yasha made a fist unconsciously, and Ryuu backed off. "Well, I mean, some of my friends are whacky too," he muttered hastily. "Why don't I just –"

"Ryuuy! Come sit next to me!" Ashura ordered happily, bouncing up and down with excitement. Ryuu, deciding that at least one person here should be the adult and show Ashura that it wasn't okay to be a brat, replied, "Because you didn't say 'please', I will instead sit on this chair over here."

He moved over and sat down with great dignity, and was rather annoyed and disappointed when Ashura just chirped, "Okay. Kujaku and I can sit here by ourselves."

Yasha took a sudden and vehement seat across from his son and his son's new friend, who he really wanted to strangle right now. And the pretty bugger was grinning at him, like he hadn't had this much fun in a long time.

Maybe he hadn't. But he used to have _such _fun with Yasha…such _enjoyable _fun…

And Yasha wasn't even thinking about the very fun sex. Scenes were whirling through his head: the time Kujaku had gotten him to sing "Puttin' On The Ritz" with him in a karaoke bar. The time they'd carved pumpkins for Halloween and Kujaku had made his into a grumpy Yasha face, " 'Cause that's so scary!" The time Kujaku had braided Yasha's hair into a hundred braids because they were both bored that day. The time Yasha had read the entire "Lord of the Rings" trilogy aloud to Kujaku because the other man liked the sound of his voice.

Damn, Kujaku had been fun.

But he had also been very trying, Yasha told himself firmly, remembering other, darker times. Like when Kujaku had hurled a glass at him in anger. Or when Kujaku had handcuffed Yasha to a chair, opened his pants, and then strolled off, saying "That's for being nasty to my cousin." Or when Kujaku had told Yasha's horrified, judgmental father "I love your son, and I love his cock too."

And then of course there had been the elderly, conservative neighbors incident…oh God, Yasha was still embarrassed by that one. Kujaku had walked into their yard and started singing Wham! at the top of his lungs, when Mr. Bimmler had been napping in his hammock. The old man had gotten tangled as Kujaku had grinned evilly.

"Well _hi!_"he'd yelled. "I'm Kujaku! I live next door with my lover Yasha. Stop trying to sic the police on us for sodomy, you Bible-thumping moronic older-than-dirt bastard. Bye-bye now!"

"Well hel_lo_ Ryuu, it's nice to meet you," Kujaku was saying, yanking Yasha out of his memories. "And are you a good little schoolboy like Ashura here?" He was noogying the six-year-old as he spoke.

"I guess." Ryuu clearly did not trust the new guy. "Good enough to get into a couple colleges."

"Ooh, that's great. Education is _important. _Right Yasha?" Kujaku smiled, giving Yasha a chance to join the conversation and show off his expertise.

The teacher did not take advantage of that chance. "Why are you here? I can't believe this…"

Catching sight of Ryuu's "Aha!" expression, Yasha then amended, "I mean, I wish you had called, or something."

"Well," Kujaku smiled, tickling the shrieking Ashura, "you might have just hung up on me. I wanted to come tell you the good news in person."

_Oh my God, he's getting married! _the tiny irrational part of Yasha's mind screamed. _Quick, knock him out and hide him in the guest bedroom so nobody else can have him! Tie him up and see how __he__ likes it!_

"Yasha, Ashura, new buddy Ryuu…" Kujaku grinned sunnily, perfect teeth flashing, "I have an announcement: I have found myself an apartment, and I'm staying in this city!"

His joyful proclamation had varying reactions. Ashura yelled "Yay! Then you can come over all the time!" Ryuu mumbled, "Great. Frickin' great," in a tone of voice that indicated the exact opposite. And Yasha at first looked immensely relieved then looked absolutely furious.

"I cannot believe this," he snapped. "Stop this farce. Ryuu," he nodded at the teen, "will you please take Ashura and make some lemonade?"

The nervous-looking Ryuu stood up and held out a hand to Ashura. "You heard your dad, kid. Let's go make lemonade and leave him all alone with this weirdo."

"Kujaku's not a _weirdo,_"Ashura pouted. "Kujaku's _nice._"

Kujaku was flattered. "Aw, aren't you sweet. Go along with your nanny –"

"Babysitter!"

"– and make that lemonade. I think your daddy needs something to cool him down."

Ashura hopped down from the couch and bounded into the kitchen. Ryuu followed, but not without a warning glance at Kujaku.

Alone now with his uninvited guest, Yasha leaned forward. "Just what do you think you're doing? My son is for some reason enamored with you, and when you leave like I _know _you will he'll be sad. Very sad. For God's sake, Kujaku, Ashura cries when the neighbor's _guppies _die, and she has almost a hundred of them! I will not let you _use _my son to –"

Kujaku held up his hands, protesting, "Yasha, no, I'm serious, I'm staying in this city. And I'm not leaving." He beamed. "You can't get rid of me." He beamed some more. "Isn't that just swell?"

Yasha could think of many adjectives to describe this situation, and "swell" was not one of them. "Kujaku," he growled, "are you stalking me?"

_Am I? Legally, I might be…_

"Yasha," Kujaku told him, only semi-lying, "I'm here for work. It's just sheer, wonderful luck that our paths crossed again. I really –"

"If you tell me that you missed me, I will throw this potted plant at your head," Yasha snarled, and he meant it. His heart had been torn to shreds once already by Mr. Pretty Purple Eyes, and it was not going to happen again. He was still getting over the last time.

"Yasha, I'm sorry. Really, I am," Kujaku murmured. "I'm _so_ sorry."

"So am I," Yasha muttered. They gazed at each other for a while, held back by bad decisions and suspicion.

"Hey," Kujaku said suddenly, brightening up, "what if we put it behind us and be _friends?_"

"Friends." Yasha rolled this word around in his head. Was "friend" a good word for a man who he'd loved and lain with and wanted to be with forever? Was it a good word for the same man who'd lied to him and run off without any contact for seven long, painful years?

But…Kujaku was gazing sadly at him, and good lord, those were actual tears in his eyes. He _was _sorry, he really was. Yasha considered this.

Despite not knowing _exactly _who Kujaku worked for, the bespectacled man knew he was some sort of federal gunslinger. He'd kept his weapons close and used to lick his favorite gun while winking suggestively at Yasha, which had been kind of hot, but Yasha was not going to think about that now, dammit!

The point was that Kujaku, while mysterious as all get-out sometimes, was a good person. He hated causing unnecessary pain. He liked helping people. And Yasha could tell that all he wanted now was his former lover back.

It was flattering, intriguing, arousing, and so very seductive, seeing Kujaku stare at him with his heart in his eyes. But things had changed, because Yasha had a son now. He couldn't just drop it all and jump back into bed with Kujaku, as Ashura had to come first.

But Ashura seemed to really like Kujaku, and that gave Yasha pause. His son didn't like mean people and was usually scared of anyone new, for a little while anyway. The fact that he'd seized on Kujaku as a friend held a lot of weight to Yasha. Sometimes a child's eyes could see what an adult's could not, what was covered up in the debris of years and lies and silly games.

Yasha Yama sighed, exhaling slowly. He was of two minds about this. Hormone Emotional Mind wanted to extend his hand and say "I missed you too. Come here."

Stoic Logical Mind wanted to kick Kujaku out, because previous experience had said he was dangerous. Not to life and limb, but to Hormone Emotional Mind. Damn it all, Yasha had been living his life, repressed but doing fine, and then Kujaku had picked him up, turned him on, and dropped him, leaving Yasha desperate and confused about who and what he really was.

But, Stoic Logical Mind then pointed out, if that hadn't happened he would have never adopted Ashura, and he loved that child more than anything in the world.

And between these two opposed minds, there was the simple fact that Yasha was lonely. He loved Ashura, but socially, he had very few people to talk to who understood him. Kumaraten, for all his passive-aggressive tendencies, was one; Kahra was another. Ryuu was of course a third, and then there was…well… see, no one else.

And Kujaku _understood _Yasha. He had understood him so well that he could predict what Yasha would do before the teacher knew it himself. Kujaku would not hurt Ashura, and in fact he'd probably bring his little spy agency down on anybody who threatened the boy. Because once Kujaku liked someone, they were his and he took care of them.

Yasha met Kujaku's eyes. The other man had a hand out, and suddenly seemed to realize that might be too much and pulled it back hastily.

And then Yasha said, "All right. We'll put it behind us and be friends, Kujaku, for Ashura's sake."

Kujaku really, _really _wanted to fling himself on Yasha, bawling his eyes out and yelling, "Oh, Yasha! Thank you for this chance!" but he made himself stay still. Friends tended to respect each other's boundaries.

"Thank you, Yasha. Thank you." He meant it. Sure, he _could _have knocked Yasha out, and kidnapped him and his son, and stuck them in a safe house where Yasha could be his forever. But if Kujaku had been told that Yasha wanted nothing more to do with him, he would have left and never bothered them again.

He would have made sure they were safe, and he might have obsessively waited for news of his former lover, but if Yasha had told him to get out, he would have. Despite the camping gear.

And friends…Kujaku could be friends. He could tone it down. He would stop looking at Yasha like he was a tasty chocolate bar and be totally cool. Sure, he'd _like _to handcuff Sexy Teacher to his kitchen table and do naughty things (Kujaku gleefully thought about how much Yasha had just _loved _that), but he would resist, because it would be enough to just bask in the other man's presence.

Being friends was fine. He liked Ashura a ridiculous amount already. And maybe, if Kujaku was a _good enough _friend, Yasha would willingly handcuff _himself _to his table.

So Snugglebunnies wouldn't have to be called off. It might fail in the end, but as long as Yasha was alive, Kujaku would be his _friend. _He would be the best friend ever!

And Kujaku's best friend was nodding right then. "Yes. You're welcome."

"Yasha? Kujaku? Ryuuy and I couldn't find any lemonade, so we used Kool-Aid. That's okay, right?" Ashura asked, poking his head into the living room.

Yasha sighed (he thought Kool-Aid was a terrible invention), but then smiled and said, "That's just fine, Ashura. Thank you for making it."

He stood up and indicated the kitchen to his guest. "Come in here. It's easier to clean up if you spill." And so Kujaku had Kool-Aid and grinned, and Ashura chattered, and Ryuu even cracked a smile, and Yasha tried not to taste his drink.

Kujaku left an hour later, having promised Ashura that he'd be back very soon, and waved at Yasha, who'd come out with his son to see him off.

_Yes…_the agent thought, singing along to Cheap Trick as he drove, _we're all all right indeed._

Smythe looked up from his laptop as Kujaku floated into the room, singing Queen so loudly a precariously perched cup fell over and scattered pens on the floor.

"What the hell?" the computer whiz whispered to Shara, who was staring at their team leader in complete bewilderment.

"I have no idea," she muttered back, watching Kujaku hang up his suit jacket and samba around the pens.

"Ooh, lover _boy, _whatcha doin' tonight, hey –"

Kujaku suddenly realized that he was _not _alone and stopped short, face going red and turning around slowly. His operatives were all staring at him, openmouthed. Just dropped his "Frogs of Egypt" coffee mug with a very loud "thunk", which somehow managed to sound appalled.

Kujaku mumbled, "Um. So, Shara, where's my, uh, where's my dinner? You had food duty tonight."

Shara got up and went for the Taco Gong bag, Smythe emphatically returned his attention to World of Diplomatic Negotiationcraft, and Just regarded Kujaku seriously. "Agent Kujaku Valentine…are you on _drugs?_"

"Of course not! I was just spending time with the man whose heart I must recapture."

Just made a face. "Ickers."

Kujaku stuck his tongue out at him immaturely and slammed his office door.

Zouchouten too had it bad. He found himself wondering if Karura liked movies (only realistic, gritty ones) or if he could buy her a drink and talk about their lives (no, because she was trying to be healthy). He kept a close eye on her, considered giving her a raise for being wonderful, and even rearranged his schedule so all of his days off were ones she was off work as well.

She noticed. She was no fool. She kept turning around to find him watching her, and that would have been unnerving if he hadn't been so completely respectful all the time and never made her uncomfortable.

That respect was nice, and it was fitting of their friendship, and it was a good thing, so why did she keep catching herself daydreaming of him confessing to her alone in the office with his shirt off? Karura was by no means a prude; she had a vivid imagination and knew her own body very well, but she'd seen the various damages that could be caused by unrestrained sexuality many times, and had made the conscious decision to sit it out herself. It was much safer.

Thus it was always slightly disturbing to her when she found herself physically attracted to someone. But starting from Billy Hinkle in middle school and up to Phil Johanneson on the force, she'd managed to keep it at bay and not do anything stupid, and it had always passed, usually pretty quickly.

This wasn't passing. It was getting worse, and she was even starting to think his stupid sideburns were attractive!

"_Oh, Karura," _he breathed in her head, hefting a bench so she could watch his shirtless muscles flex, _"I want to take you to Heaven in my arms. Let's get it __on__."_

Her jaw dropped in shock at such thoughts surfacing when she wasn't alone in bed. _I obviously need a therapist again. And this time we'll talk about my inappropriate nymphomaniacal fantasies about one of my bosses, not the stages of grief._

Zouchouten watched intently as Karura flushed, closed her mouth, and went over to check someone's ID. Huh. He wondered what had brought that on.

_She probably just heard Koumokuten talking on his phone to that exhibitionist woman. That's just wrong._

And indeed, Koumokuten was talking on his phone and getting red in the face too. Zouchouten decided that propriety should be observed and walked over to make his friend be a normal, non-perverted person for once in his life.

"Look," Koumokuten was snapping, "I told you before, Bish, and you can tell _him_ this too: I can't just –"

He caught sight of annoyed Zouchouten. "Hey Bish, too bad, I gotta split. …Yeah? Well, same to you, fucker." Koumokuten punched a button violently. "Hi Z. Damn extended relations."

"Oh." Zouchouten felt rather guilty now. It had obviously been a heated family discussion he'd broken up, he thought, not phone sex. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."

Koumokuten shook his head. "Nah, it's fine. I hate talking to that guy anyway. I can't believe we're related sometimes."

Zouchouten nodded in complete oblivion and went off to check if the new shipment of schnapps had come in yet.

(AN: For those of you who are innocent, "MILF" means "Mom I'd Like To (Have Sexual Relations With)". Sorry for corrupting the youth. Koumokuten wasn't being serious, obviously.

An explanation of him smashing a vodka bottle on Zouchouten's head will come early in the next chapter. And we'll also have more Kujaku playing spy games, yay!

And oh…I laughed so very very hard writing Ku in Yasha's house. Poor "nanny" Ryuu. Poor conflicted, stalked Yasha. And poor Kujaku too: no handcuff fun time. Oh, I'm still smiling, even after reading it for what must be the hundredth time.

Oh, and Kujaku was singing along to Cheap Trick's "Surrender" in his car; awesome song. And of course I don't own Queen's "Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy", and the lyrics were used without permission.)


	10. I Was Rather Bored

It was June by now. Zouchouten found himself thanking his lucky stars that he had such a competent bouncer in Karura, as they were heading into drunk season. Well, of _course _there were other bouncers and Vahyu in particular was very good at what he did, but Karura was…she was…

No-nonsense, he decided. Straightforward. Super competent, super confident, super compliant with all the rules, he thought in his office as Karura talked to another informant downstairs. The perfect employee, really.

Except, well, he still thought she should smile more. But then, what did she have to manically happy about? Sure, _he _loved being here, despite how annoyed he got at times while on the premises, but she –

Actually, now that he thought about it, maybe she _did _love being here. She hardly took any breaks, she always covered shifts, she made no mention of "I need Saturday off, I've got something going on." Hey, great. She liked her job. That was good, because happy employees were better employees.

_And that's completely why you want her to be happy, Southland. Sure._

He frowned at that damn sarcastic internal voice. But he _did_ want her to be happy. Even if she never smiled at him again and thought he was a loser, he wanted her to be happy.

He knew why this was. He was not a stupid man. And because he was not a stupid man, he didn't hit on her or follow her around and ask questions like "Can I come over and see Garuda again?" Nope, he liked having his head, thank you. Skye hated being hit on, which made an awful lot of sense.

_However…_it had occurred to him that, if she ever did give him any indication that she might be interested in him, he would go with it like a running back barreling past linebackers. He wouldn't force it though: if she said "No" he'd bow out gracefully and self-fumble. He didn't want to annoy her, after all.

But it mattered that Skye should be happy. He wanted to _make_ her happy, somehow. So even if she did decide he was a loser, he could have cheered her up in some honest, selfless, friendly way.

And maybe he did. They'd had a couple of other talks in the loading bay, and she always left feeling lighter and he always left feeling contented. They worked well together, they both decided.

And that, Zouchouten smiled, was almost like the winning touchdown.

Two days later, as Karura casually interviewed another contact, Zouchouten had a conversation partner of his own. As he was telling Hanranya that the brandy shipment had come, Vahyu walked over and waved a hand in his face, grinning. "Zou, somebody wants to have a chat with you. He says his name is Ku, and he bought you a drink."

"Oh, for the _love _of – I don't have time for this!" Zouchouten searched the tables, and a man in the corner put a hand up and smiled. "Is that him? Tell him no. We're busy as hell, and –"

Vahyu grinned some more. "He was pretty insistent, Zou. He said it could be, and I quote, 'beneficial for both parties'."

Zouchouten heaved a sigh. He was all about getting something in return if he had to suffer through an experience he didn't want to, but the guy's words and actions could be taken in a damn well homoerotic way, and he was _not _all about that. He'd been hit on by men before, and it unnerved him.

"Vahyu, you're…into that kind of thing. I mean, well, _you _know. Should I be worried?"

The beautiful bouncer appraised Kujaku carefully. "Probably not. Gay maybe, but definitely not looking tonight." He flipped his hair. "He's obviously missed me."

"Okay, Vahyu, you've made your point," Zouchouten said dryly. "Thanks for your help."

Vahyu turned a smile that belonged in a toothpaste ad campaign on him. "Anytime, babe," he replied obnoxiously. "Have fun!"

Zouchouten moved over to Kujaku's table, noting with some scorn that the other man was wearing sunglasses in a dark bar.

"So…you must be Southland." Kujaku raised his glass. "It's nice to meet you."

"Look, I'm short on help tonight, so if this isn't important, I'll –" Zouchouten stopped short as Kujaku slid his sunglasses off, revealing vivid violet eyes. Startling, to say the least.

"They're not contacts," he said, with the air of one who had had that particular question asked of him numerous times before. "Tell me, Zouchouten – you don't mind if I call you Zouchouten? Good. Tell me why a former Army corporal sets up shop with a former gangster." He smiled, a flash of white teeth to rival Vahyu's. "That important enough to get your attention?"

"Perhaps." Zouchouten sat down, watching the other man carefully. Kujaku smiled again and slid a beer over to him. "Of course, I already know the story, but I like hearing people tell me things truthfully," he chatted amicably.

"Do you now. Which story is it?"

Kujaku chuckled, "The one where he shattered a bottle on your head in Denver. Smirnoff, I think it was."

Zouchouten froze, his glass halfway to his lips. It _had_ been Smirnoff, but he was pretty sure that detail wasn't included in the police report. "What else?" he asked cautiously.

Kujaku leaned back. "Christmas Eve, 1991. You were drinking to forget Iraq, he was drinking to get smashed. Somebody said something, and the two of you ended up destroying an entire section of the bar. They threw you both in the drunk tank, and after you stopped trying to throw him into a wall and he stopped kicking you in the shins, you got to talking about the quality of the booze and how the service had sucked."

He smiled. "You kept in touch after the court date, because you saw something of yourselves in each other. You ended up building this place together, and the rest, as they say, is history." He sipped his pina colada, and Zouchouten stared. He was a good foot taller and could probably toss this guy into a table with little effort, so why did he feel like Ku here had all the power?

"I'm not going to ask who you are, but I _am _going to ask what the hell you want from me," Zouchouten said quietly, putting down his forgotten drink.

"Whoa, dude. I'm just a simple playboy with a working knowledge of the internet," Kujaku laughed, flapping his hand in an "oh, you" gesture.

"And I'm Queen Victoria. Are you law enforcement?" Zouchouten guessed.

"I'm having a hard time picturing you in petticoats, Your Majesty," Kujaku drawled, and snickered mentally as Zouchouten's gaze sharpened in annoyance. The agent took it a step further: "Then again, it's always the ones you don't suspect who turn out to be crossdressers."

Zouchouten's patience snapped and he got to his feet, shoving his chair back so violently that it clattered to the floor. _Oh, too easy, _Kujaku thought, pleased at how quickly insulted masculinity made the big guy forget his line of questioning.

"Zouchouten? Are you okay?"

Kujaku watched intently as his victim's attention turned quickly and completely to the woman who'd just showed up at his side. "Skye. Yes, it's fine," he assured her, taking several deep, calming breaths.

Karura frowned at Kujaku. "All right. Well, if you need me, I'll be over by the stage."

Kujaku could hazard a very accurate guess as to the words currently running through Zouchouten's head. They were probably something along the lines of "I need you all the time, Skye".

They watched her walk away, then Kujaku lifted his glass in a toast and laughed. "Talking to you's fun. Let's do it again."

Zouchouten glared and stomped off. Kujaku couldn't help but notice that he went in the direction of the stage before he stopped, shook his head irritably, and spun on his heel to go in the opposite direction.

_That wasn't beneficial to me at all, "Ku". And I get the feeling you'll be back._

As Zouchouten made an accurate prediction, Kujaku sipped his pina colada and thought. He hadn't gotten much out of the guy. Nothing, really. Perhaps the crossdresser line had been too much, as Southland would probably refuse to talk to him again. But, on the other hand, Southland knew he was here now. He might not freak out when Kujaku asked Skye questions, and the operative had a feeling _she_ might be much more willing to talk.

He'd have to be careful though. Koumokuten Oeste could not get wind of this. Kujaku had set a tail on the guy and had so far found nothing unusual, but still…he had a _feeling. _

But no proof. Indeed, Oeste had suddenly pulled over on the side of the freeway, forcing his tail to do the same, and walked over and slammed a fist on the roof. "Hey, quit it. You some kinda private eye?"

The agent had smiled and said something like, "No, just car trouble of my own," but Koumokuten hadn't bought it. "Stop it. I mean it. I hate being followed. Look, if my ex wants more money, she can tell me that _herself!_"

With that, he had stormed back to his car and screeched off, and Kujaku had been forced to say "Pull back." They weren't getting anywhere with tailing Koumokuten, and Twelve was getting testy at the lack of progress.

But hmm, Karura Skye. She might be talkative. Kujaku noticed her talking to a man who didn't look like potential boyfriend material. _Hey, what if she __is__ picking up guys? And Southland wants her himself, I think that's rather clear. Maybe he'd be desperate enough to pull something, and I can use it as leverage?_

But uh-uh, money had just changed hands, so quickly and casually that anyone not watching for it wouldn't see it. Well. This was rather unexpected.

Kujaku wondered for a second if Skye had fallen in with Oeste somehow. Perhaps she was herself in contact with Taishakuten? A former police officer…yeah, it happened a lot, actually.

But then Skye sighed, looking very sad. Kujaku watched her walk off with a slightly desperate look on her face. This was quite confusing. Okay, he decided, he'd talk to her soon.

But the next day, he wasn't thinking of espionage, because Yasha was having a get-together. He'd invited a couple work friends, Ryuu, and even Kujaku, yay!

_Progress, Ku! Snugglebunnies is alive and well!_

So as Kujaku brushed his hair and sang a happy song (it went "I'm gonna go see Yasha, I'm gonna go see Yasha," etc.), Yasha left Ashura stealing a cookie and let Ryuu in.

"Hey Yasha!" Ryuu greeted exuberantly, waving.

Yasha looked behind him. "I don't see your truck, Ryuu. How'd you get here?"

"Oh, my cousins dropped me off on the way to the concert they're going to." Ryuu indicated the car behind him, where a rather familiar-looking white-haired young man was waving out the window as someone else pulled away.

Yasha shrugged. "Okay. I can bring you home. C'mon in."

Ryuu had barely been inside a minute before he heard a raised voice outside: "I'm telling you, Kahra, he did it on _purpose! _He's stalking me! It's not enough he tormented me at school, now he – what? Of course he is! Why else would he be here?"

The doorbell rang violently, and Ashura shrieked and gamboled over. "Kahra! Kahra!"

He opened the door, and a dark-skinned blond woman beamed at him as her equally blond but red-faced husband stalked in. "Yama!" he yelled, catching sight of Yasha. "Yama, Seiryuu Pendragon almost totaled my car!"

"Oh Kumaraten, he missed sideswiping the mirror by three whole inches, and –"

Kumaraten seemed near hysteria. "He almost killed us, Yama! He wasn't satisfied with blowing up my lab, now he has to go after my pregnant wife!"

Ryuu shook his head. "Seiryuu would never do that. He's a bad driver, but he'd never hurt anybody. On purpose, anyway," he amended, remembering the time Seiryuu had accidentally set the couch on fire.

Kumaraten paused, looking at this redheaded young man. "How would _you _know? He is a moronic, dangerous –"

"Oh, he's my cousin," Ryuu answered cheerfully. "He dropped me off, that's why he was here."

Yasha fully expected this logical explanation to be drowned in the ocean of Kumaraten's paranoia, but instead the chemist just sighed, "Oh _good_," looking incredibly relieved. Well, Yasha decided, the man _was _a scientist, and scientists loved logic.

Introductions were made and Ashura ate his second cookie, then seats were taken and Ashura ate some crackers. As conversation started, he ate some chips, and when Kumaraten and Kahra were nearly crying with laughter over Ryuu's story of his eight-year-old self's lawnmower joyride, Yasha made his son eat some vegetables. (It should be rather obvious by now that Ashura loved food, and practically lived to eat some days.)

And then, as Yasha told Ashura to eat more broccoli because it was _good _for you, the doorbell rang again.

Yasha asked his son, "Ashura, can you be helpful and get the door please?" The child gratefully abandoned his broccoli and skipped over to the door.

When he opened it, he happily shrieked, "KUJAKU!"

Everyone looked up, Yasha in annoyance at the decibel of said shriek, Ryuu in resignation, and Kahra and Kumaraten in curiosity. The man who had inspired such a joyful outburst from Ashura patted him on the head and walked into the living room.

"Hello hello!" he grinned, taking off his sunglasses.

Kumaraten's jaw dropped. This guy had whacky irises, black hair so glossy it was iridescent, and was wearing a t-shirt that said "LOVE ME." He recognized those stupid purple contacts, and dear lord, this man had hit on his wife!

_Whoa now, calm it down Hades, _Kumaraten told himself. _He's not stalking her, really. He probably doesn't even remember who she is or you are. Let's not jump to conclusions._

And indeed, Kujaku pretended not to recognize the couple from the bar. "Hi. My name is Kujaku! Of course," he bonked Ashura lightly, "you probably figured that one out already."

More introductions were made, more food was consumed by Ashura, and Kujaku managed to finagle a seat next to Yasha by letting Ashura sit on his lap.

Karura sat at her computer, typing furiously. Her notes from her interviews were leading her to an inescapable conclusion: Deva Grounding had been a hitman. Not a very good one, apparently, but good enough, she thought grimly.

So who had ordered the hit? She'd asked who Grounding had worked for, if he was a freelancer or a kept killer, and from what she had figured out he'd started out on his own and then been picked up by someone. But then she had always hit a wall, because no one wanted to talk about that.

Until yesterday. She'd gotten a name: Taishakuten King, which sounded slightly familiar. And then the informant had clammed up and said nothing else, except of course for "I want my money."

She hated paying these people, but what else could she do? It was getting expensive too, so maybe she should ask for a raise?

Oh sure, she thought sarcastically, she'd just say, "Hey Zouchouten and Koumokuten, I need more bribe money. Can you maybe increase my salary while I ask weasels about killers in your bar and tell you nothing?"

And that was another thing she felt bad about. She went to great lengths to hide what she was doing, and made sure informants met her at the busiest times, while everyone else was distracted. She even took them outside whenever she could.

Koumokuten, she thought, noticed nothing. This was in reality quite untrue, as he kept a running tally of people his bouncer talked to, and talked to many of them later himself. The fact that she had until now gotten no name was the only reason things hadn't gotten dangerous.

Be that as it may, Zouchouten had at times glanced over to find Karura's head near a contact's, but she always noticed, whispered "Play along", and acted like she was dealing with a security issue. And it always worked; he beamed proudly when she threw a couple people out and paid them on the down-low…and this made her feel like scum.

_Lying to Zouchouten and Koumokuten, using their bar for your own gain…damn it, you're heading down a slippery slope, Officer Skye. _

She sighed and bit her lip. She wasn't an officer anymore, because she'd already fallen down that slope months ago in the courtroom. And it was too late, she thought, because she had to avenge Karyou and make those responsible pay. And now she was finally getting closer.

So she'd ask more questions and scrape up enough money somehow, and she supposed if it got really bad she could pawn a few things. She'd find out what was going on, go to the authorities, get her man (or woman, as she didn't know if King was really behind this), and _then_ she would confess what she'd done to her bosses.

Koumokuten might just shrug and say, "Okay. I'm docking your pay for that," and that would be it. Karura figured that Zouchouten would be mad at first, and then he'd understand. He might even say "Dammit Skye, why didn't you let me in on this earlier? I could have helped you. Come here and make it up to –"

She shook her head vehemently at that last idea and kept typing.

As Karura shook her head, Kujaku nodded his. "Oh yes, I'm very involved in saving the planet! And recycling should be mandatory, I think."

Kumaraten smiled at him, pleased by this. "You know, that's so true. Why, if we recycled even half of what we…"

Ryuu glanced over at Yasha. Ashura had just run off to the bathroom, and dang it, why wasn't it time to eat yet for anyone _but _the kid? Granted, Ryuu loved Ashura too, but that was pretty unfair. He had an idea then.

"Hey Yasha, can I help you get anything ready in the kitchen?" he offered.

Yasha stood up. "Sure, Ryuu. Maybe you can slice the chicken while I get the spinach puffs out of the oven."

"Cool."

Kumaraten was still talking about important environmental issues. "And I think even greater fines should be levied for littering. Don't you, Kujaku? …Kujaku?"

Kujaku was staring off with a longing expression on his face, and Kumaraten followed his gaze. Why, there was nothing there but empty space where Yama had just been.

Kujaku stood up. "Hey Kumie, I heard 'spinach puffs'. I love those things! I'll be right back," he smiled, running off to go help (aka get in the way and get his fingers burned).

Kahra gave her husband a knowing look. "I think I know why he was in that bar, Kumaraten. After all, Yasha said he'd been there earlier and had to leave."

Kumaraten considered this. He and Kahra were aware that their friend was probably gay, as Yasha got all red and grumpy around attractive, available, downright sweet women who asked him out. And then of course there was the fact that he'd adopted a child, because a straight man probably would have fathered one himself with one of those attractive, sweet women.

Kumaraten never mentioned it, as Yama obviously had no interest in him so it was okay. He didn't want to embarrass Yasha either, because despite how often they argued, they were friends. Quite good friends, actually.

But really…_Kujaku? _Well, the guy _was_ quite pretty, but he seemed a little over-exuberant. Kumaraten privately thought that if Yama ever had a mate it would be someone just as stick-in-the-mud as he was. Although Yama's hair was loose now, and it had always been in a ponytail before. Maybe this was some sort of homosexual mating call?

But maybe Kujaku just dug Yasha and Yasha had no idea. Kumaraten was about to ask his wife what her thoughts were when Ashura bounded back in and captured Kahra's attention, and he forgot about it.

As everyone left hours later, Kumaraten waved to Kujaku, who was heading to his own car, and thought, _Well purple-eyes, you're all right. I guess you weren't hitting on Kahra after all._

Karura lay in bed, sprawled out on her back, clenching a sheet in her fist and dreaming. It was a weird dream, as it involved high heels and a campsite, for some reason.

_Dang it, she'd worn the wrong shoes. She was wearing heels, and everybody else was wearing sneakers. Except for Aguni, who was wearing those spikes she ran around in._

"_Hey Karura," Gigei laughed, "come help me put up this tent, okay?"_

"_But I'm wearing heels!" she protested._

"_Oh, that's your own fault, Skye," Koumokuten snorted. "Put your sneakers on, lady. Z has 'em over there." He patted the deer that had wandered into the clearing. "Let's have venison. Where's my gun?"_

_Hmm, that sounded rather threatening, shooting that poor innocent deer. Karura was about to tell him to leave the doe alone when it bounded off and he whined, "But I wanted to get it!"_

_She felt a hand on her shoulder then. "Don't mind Koumokuten, Skye. I'll make him go away," Zouchouten's voice came from behind her. _

_Koumokuten frowned. "But Z…I wanna kill it."_

_Zouchouten rested his chin on the top of Karura's head, one arm holding her around the waist. "Oh, you want to kill everything. Go ahead and run off."_

_Perhaps she should tell him not to hold her like that. Perhaps she should say that she would help Gigei with the tent…or perhaps she should turn around and hug him back._

_Yes, that last one was a sound plan. But everyone else was still here, weren't they? _

_Actually no, they weren't. Except that Koumokuten was still standing in front of her, sighing. "Z…fine. I'll find that deer right now." He gave Karura a sarcastic salute. "Enjoy."_

_And he was gone, as Karura turned around. Zouchouten smiled at her, said, "I like those heels," and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "You look so lovely in just those heels."_

_Goodness, she was indeed now wearing nothing but her pumps. But that was okay, because he was on his back at this point anyway as the campsite faded away._

_And what he'd just done felt good. So she had him do it again, and again, and again, until she was panting and groaning and feeling absolutely wonderful._

"_Do you want me?" he asked her, mouth right near her lips._

"_Yes," she replied breathlessly._

"_Do you need me?"_

"_Yes, I – "_

WHAM!

"What the –"

She blinked up at her ceiling, which was farther away than it had been before. And she was kind of sore. She glanced around and sighed.

She'd fallen off the bed. Apparently dreaming about rolling around had made her do so.

She got up grumpily and climbed back into it, making sure she was in the exact middle and pulling her sheets back up. What a strange dream, with violent Koumokuten and high heels and Zouchouten on his back…

Oh. Well, that part had been pretty nice, and was still rather vivid. She sighed again and decided to recreate that last scene as best she could all alone.

When she woke up hours later, she decided that the bit about Koumokuten wanting to kill a deer was simply her brain's way of saying that she didn't like him, and that he was dangerous somehow. She didn't know how right she was…because at that moment he was in contact with Taishakuten again.

Koumokuten stepped into the study of Taishakuten's mansion. The crime lord was lounging back in his boss chair, Bishamonten standing at his right side, both of them smiling nastily. Koumokuten gave them an equally nasty smile. "She's figured out you had the kid killed."

Taishakuten inclined his head. "Come, Oeste, sit down. After twenty years, surely you have some questions?"

Koumokuten pulled up a chair and took out a cigarette. "Well, I dunno. Bish tells me you've just gone bigger and better, Taishakuten."

Taishakuten smirked proudly. "Oh indeed, Oeste. Much of that is thanks to Bishamonten, really. His grip on a major corporation is the reason I moved here to this city."

Koumokuten lit the cigarette, not even bothering to ask if he could smoke. "That's great. So, why'd you have Skye's sister killed?"

Bishamonten answered instead, sounding annoyed. "Because she would not back down on a death that, if exposed, could have jeopardized our entire operation. Had she kept asking questions, she might have found out too much about that company."

"And," Taishakuten added casually, "I was rather bored, really."

Koumokuten nodded. Bored Taishakuten had to be appeased before people like Koumokuten had to suffer for the guy's entertainment. Better an innocent child than him, the bar owner thought.

"So…you want me to lock her in the loading bay and set it on fire?" he asked. That would not be good for the loading bay, and he felt rather bad about suggesting such a thing right now, but he'd get over it, he knew. He was pretty good at getting over silly sentimental feelings.

Taishakuten shook his head. "No, Oeste. Perhaps a hint instead. We should give her a chance, after all."

Koumokuten nodded, thought for a second, then ventured, "She won't back off, I'll bet. I mean, she's really –"

"Oh I _know _she won't," Taishakuten purred. "But at least this way she'll bring it on herself, yes?"

Koumokuten started to say that that was fair enough, but was interrupted by a voice from the door. "Having a little meeting, Taishakuten?"

Koumokuten turned, then grinned. A gorgeous woman was standing in the doorway, wearing a tailored suit with a short skirt. Her hair was glossy brown, her lips were crimson, and her body was killer.

"Well hi there," he chuckled, then remembered whose presence he was in. This woman was probably Taishakuten's, and if she was, hitting on her would be a very bad idea.

But the crime lord just smirked. "Shashi. You remember Oeste, perhaps?"

She studied the black-clad man, frowning and trying to place him. "Do you have a first name, Oeste?"

"Koumokuten. I'm Koumokuten Oeste," he told her. He was very glad he hadn't said anything, because this was Taishakuten's _wife, _he remembered her now. Shashi King… what a power-hungry slut. He'd actually hated her.

Shashi kept frowning. "I'm sorry, I don't remember you at all."

"That's all right, Shashi, you don't have to," Taishakuten informed her calmly. "But you'll be seeing a lot of him again. He's," he grinned, "back in the fold."

Koumokuten nodded quickly. "Whatever you say, boss."

Taishakuten studied his wife. "Shashi, is there something you needed?"

"Well," she murmured, "I was rather hoping Bishamonten might help me with something."

Her husband smiled indulgently. "Very well. Bishamonten, you may go."

He examined his nails as Koumokuten watched Bishamonten walk out of his line of sight with Shashi, and Koumokuten was pretty sure the guy was reaching for her rear. He looked back at Taishakuten, but the silver-haired man apparently hadn't noticed this.

Koumokuten's face lit up. _Ooh, I can get Bish in trouble! We never got along anyway. _

"Sir," he told his boss, as helpfully as he could, "I think Bish has a thing for your wife, sir. I'll take him out for you," he offered happily.

Taishakuten just buffed his nails on his suit jacket. "Oh yes, I know."

He didn't say anything else, and Koumokuten stared for a moment. Should he push it? Probably not. Maybe Tai liked to watch, or something.

"You see Oeste," Taishakuten informed his subordinate, "I view my wife as a prize. Good work is rewarded with prizes, and Bishamonten is quite helpful. Anyway, I want you to make Skye nervous. Nothing too flashy, nothing sinister enough that she might go to the police, but definitely a clear warning."

Koumokuten considered for a moment. "You want, what, a phone call saying 'Back off, I know what you're doing'?"

Taishakuten sighed. "Surely you can do better than _that_."

The other man gave him a smile between a smirk and a grin. "I'll see what I can do, Taishakuten."

The underworld king nodded. "Good, good. We'll of course be in contact. Oh, and Oeste… do not betray me."

"Sir," Koumokuten told him, not lying at all, "I would have to be a very stupid guy to wanna betray _you._"

Taishakuten smiled paternally. "Yes, and you are not stupid, are you. You may go, Oeste. I await your next move with baited breath."

Koumokuten got up and fought the urge to bow. He settled for inclining his head, and walked out of the study. So…back in the game after twenty years. There would no doubt be an adjustment period, but really, perhaps this was a good thing. He'd been getting rather bored too, because you could only smoke so many cigarettes and bang so many women before you started thinking, "I need a change."

_Okay Skye, let's see if you can't be made to back off. I'd feel kinda bad if you had to die. Plus Z might go nuts, and I'd really rather not have to shoot him._

Kendappa had finally convinced Karura to go out and do something. Shopping was out (Karura hated it; why spend time in a store and hard-earned money on things you didn't need if you could avoid it?), movies were out (Kendappa tended to shout advice at characters onscreen), but food…food was always a winner. Everybody needed food.

So they'd found themselves at a smoothie shop, sucking down frapped fruit, and talking about anything that came to mind. The sun was shining, it was July by now, and Kendappa had just petted a dog.

"Aww," she grinned, watching the Saint Bernard trot off, his tiny owner holding onto his lead, "I want a pet someday!"

Karura thought this was a very sound idea. "Everyone should have a pet. They're wonderful." She pulled out her phone. "Do you want to see some new pictures of Garuda?"

Kendappa immediately leaned over, because she thought the cockatoo was awesome. They flipped through pictures of Garuda with a peanut, Garuda flapping in the air (his wings were clipped, but he occasionally tried something like that), Garuda bobbing his head while watching educational TV, and Garuda snuggling Karura.

"He's such a cutie!" Kendappa told the proudly beaming Karura. "Sometime you should bring him to meet me! Or I can go over and meet him."

"That'd be great," Karura smiled. "He likes people, and he loved when Zouchouten came over. He took to him right away."

Kendappa paused, absorbing this piece of innocent yet potentially incriminating information. "Zouchouten came over, huh? What was he doing at your apartment?"

Her friend suddenly realized how her words might be taken, and hastened to reassure Kendappa, "He dropped off my wallet, and Garuda needed to be socialized anyway. Then he petted him and left. …Kendappa, don't look at me like that!"

Kendappa watched her friend carefully as she threw out, "Zouchouten's single, you know. No girlfriend, hasn't had one for years."

Karura paused, her carrot smoothie halfway to her mouth. "Well good for him, then. He runs a bar and doesn't pick up women. That's character."

_Poker face,_ Kendappa sighed. "Unlike almost everybody else there, huh?"

Pleased that the brunette was letting her steer the conversation away from her boss's relationship status (which was really none of her business, no matter how interesting it might be), Karura nodded. "I think Varuna's the only other one I haven't seen hit on people or talk about a partner."

Kendappa sighed again. "And then of course there's Koumokuten 'Hey Ladies, Wanna See My Other Tattoo?' Oeste."

Karura sighed in annoyance, but not at Kendappa. "He hits on every attractive woman he sees. The sluttier-dressed, the better."

The musician, who had once seen Koumokuten spend an entire night trying to get a lovely, very modestly dressed woman to go out with him, said, "They just have to be attractive. They could be wearing a headcloth and a loose dress and he'd bother them."

The bouncer shook her head. "Moron. I'm just glad I never wear such revealing things."

Kendappa studied her. "You could pull it off though. Heck, just emphasize your boobs and your waist more."

Karura glared as if Kendappa had told her she should wear a thong bikini and stripper heels to work. "No. I do enough, and I don't like being seen as a piece of meat, Kendappa, I –"

Kendappa waved a hand. "I'm not saying you should try to look like a centerfold. Anybody who tries for that at all times has some serious issues. I mean, you look good anyway, but emphasizing what you've got isn't a _bad _thing."

"Men don't have that problem," Karura snapped back. "Double standard much?"

"Actually, most men, gay, bi, or straight as they come, if they're smart, do the same thing as we do: they play up what they've got. I mean, do you really think Koumokuten wears those short-sleeved shirts year-round just to stay cool?" Kendappa asked wryly.

Karura shut her mouth. Kendappa had a point.

"Or Vahyu. He probably uses more conditioner than most women. Or Varuna, or –"

"Varuna thinks '80's headbands are still in style, Kendappa."

The other woman laughed, picking up her ice cream smoothie with extra flavored syrup. "Okay, bad example, but you get the point, I think."

A phone rang suddenly, and Kendappa's face lit up at the number displayed on her caller ID. "That's my lover. I gotta take this." She flipped it open. "Babe! How are you?"

Karura sipped her smoothie as Kendappa chatted away to what the white-haired woman assumed was her boyfriend. "Yeah, I'm at the smoothie shop with a friend…Karura. You know, the one who threw out the Hell's Angel and got bought a drink by the woman he was hassling? Yeah…yeah, I know you'd like her, we should set up a date for you two to talk shop."

Kendappa whispered, "Souma's a martial arts teacher," and Karura thought that was a rather odd name. Still, her bosses were inexplicably named after two Buddhist deities, and there were an awful lot of people with Japanese and Indian names around for a Midwestern city, so Mr. Souma would probably fit right in.

"Okay hon, I'll let you go. Mm-hmm. Kiss kiss…oh yeah? Well, grope grope…lick lick, then! …All right, suck suck! Bye babe!" Kendappa hung up her phone and grinned. "My Souma loves phone sex," she said matter-of-factly to the red-faced Karura. "That was actually very tame."

The bouncer turned her attention to finishing her smoothie and tried not to dwell on her friend's perversion.

The next day, Karura put on a tighter t-shirt, applied a little more makeup than usual, added stud earrings, and started to do something different with her hair before she decided that she was taking this too far. She briefly wondered if this would attract more men to hit on her, then decided that if so, that was _their _problem and she would tell them to back off in no uncertain terms.

Glancing at herself in the mirror and humming "Independent Women Part One", she tossed her keys, caught them, blew Garuda a kiss, and drove to work in the sunshine.

Varuna looked up as she walked in and waved exuberantly. "Hi, Skye! Beautiful day, huh?"

Across the room, Koumokuten snickered, "And the weather's not the only thing that's beautiful" to Zouchouten, who was standing with his back to the door and reaching for a bottle of sherry on a shelf.

"Can you get me a chair, Koumokuten? I can't quite reach this," the bigger man said, his business partner's words not even registering. Koumokuten rolled his eyes. "Get your own chair, Z. Or maybe you can lift Skye and stare at her eye-level boobs."

"What?" Zouchouten spun and glared while Koumokuten pointed at their female bouncer. "If you _do _lift her up, put her down hard so I can watch her jiggle, okay?"

Dodging a hard kick, Koumokuten strolled off in the direction of the office whistling "Got To Give It Up", leaving Zouchouten frowning and trying to crush a defenseless corner of the bar. _Why me?_ he lamented in his head. _What did I ever do to deserve such a sex-crazed – _

"Did I hear you say you needed a chair, Zouchouten? Here's one," Karura said, fully oblivious to this latest chapter in the eternal drama of Perverted Boss and Chivalrous Boss.

"Ah, thank you Skye." He noticed something different about her then. "You look nice. Are you dressing up for anyone in particular?"

"That's such a sexist comment, Zouchouten. A woman doesn't have to want to impress someone to want to look good." It was a clear warning, but it was delivered with no malice.

He smiled and accepted the chair. "Point taken. But I didn't even notice that you had pierced ears."

"Oh, I try not to wear earrings too much because they can be ripped out in a fight, taking part of your ear with them," she replied seriously as he positioned the chair and stepped up.

"That makes sense," he nodded, closing his fingers over the sherry and stepping back down. "Thanks for your help."

"Sure." She walked away, and he studied the bottle he'd just procured so he wouldn't be tempted to study her legs or rear.

_Maybe I should rip out Koumokuten's earrings instead of having him forcibly castrated… because even he doesn't deserve to be a eunuch._

(AN: There, you got lesbian fanservice to go with all the straight and gay fanservice! And Seiryuu and Hakuryuu got a brief cameo as I adore those two; too bad I couldn't bring them in for longer. Seiryuu's ineptitude with chemistry, driving, and apparently matches is a good-natured magnification of Ryuu's mutterings that his cousin is really clumsy.

And I love Kujaku's line about saving the planet. He's James Bond, yo.

So uh-oh…Taishakuten's bored again. And also uh-oh, Koumokuten's out to cause trouble. And third uh-oh, Bishamonten's still screwing around with Shashi, which I promise _will _be explained. Later.

The next chapter is a pretty humorous one, with Kujaku and Yasha at the pool (with a tribal chest tattoo), a long list of Vahyu's former lovers, and a reference to Volume Five's "Lady Karura attacking the god king" scene…specifically, Zouchouten's throwing her over his shoulder. How the heck do I work that in without him being alpha-male and her karate-chopping him? Stay tuned.)


	11. This Isn't The Neolithic

**Chapter Eleven: This Isn't The Neolithic**

Karura washed her hands in the women's restroom of the Four Gods, frowning. She had a feeling that she'd been right about Taishakuten, because she'd asked a couple more people about him and everyone had gotten scared. And (this was also quite scary) one of them had told her point-blank, "If I talk, I'm in trouble, okay? I've just been told that it would be a very bad idea if I talk to you about him."

She'd asked him urgently, "Who told you that?" as Koumokuten sipped tequila behind her, smirking slightly.

The informant had gulped. "Can't tell you that, either. But he did say to tell you that you should leave it alone." And that had been it. She'd gotten nothing, from that man or anyone else.

She sighed, drying her hands, and opened the door. Another brick wall, dammit. She had to find someone who –

As she opened the door and walked out, Kendappa came into view, talking on her phone. To Souma, Karura realized with some dismay. "Ooh, and what are _you _wearing, sexy? ...Oh, I like those. The one with the leather cups?"

Either Mr. Souma was really _Ms. _Souma, or he was kinkier than Karura had thought.

Kendappa was still speaking: "Mm-hmm…yeah, I know. You look so _stacked_ in that. Not fair, y'know, being an athlete and having the same cup size I do! ...Oh, here's Karura. Bye babe!"

She hung up, walked over to her friend, and smiled. "Hey there. You look surprised about something."

Actually, Karura was rather shocked that this hadn't dawned on her before. She smiled then, still flushing a little in embarrassment. "Souma's a woman? I feel pretty stupid now."

Kendappa gazed at her levelly. "Oh yes. Does that bother you?"

"No, actually, I'm fine with it. My aunt's a lesbian, believe it or not." Karura indicated the bar at large. "Does everybody else know?"

"Most of them figured it out already. Varuna thinks it's ridiculously romantic, Aguni and Vahyu can't understand the attraction but who can expect them to, Hanranya is convinced Souma and I were lovers in no less than three past lives, and Zouchouten just kinda smirked and said something like 'Let's try to keep it decent, ladies' when he walked in on us on one of the tables in the storage room."

As Karura made a mental note to never eat off the tables again, Kendappa continued with, "Actually, Koumokuten seems to be the only major player still in the dark, and I'd like to keep it that way. He'd either try to get footage or pester us to agree to a threesome."

Karura could believe it. "What a jerk."

"Really."

Karura paused, wondering what else you said to a lesbian friend. Then she smiled. "I'd like to meet Souma someday, Kendappa."

The musician grinned. "That's great. She wants to meet you too. And she can, 'cause we're coming to the picnic tomorrow."

"Picnic?" Was this some thing that Kendappa had set up and not told her friend about? Then Karura remembered that the floor was being restained very late tonight, and the bar would be closed tomorrow. But no one had invited her to –

"Oh, Skye, there you are." Zouchouten jogged over, beaming like he was bearing a gift from the gods. "We're all going out to a park tomorrow. Wanna come?"

It was short notice, but Karura had nothing else to do anyway. So she nodded, "Of course I'd like to come. Will everyone be there?"

"Well, Hanranya's doing something with her fiancé," he told her, looking rather pleased, "but yeah, even Kendappa's coming, and I think Vahyu's bringing John. No, wait, he broke up with John. Rob? No, he broke up with Rob…"

As Zouchouten tried to remember which boyfriend Vahyu would have accompanying him, Kendappa tugged Karura's ponytail. "We can put a smile on that stern face, huh? Zouchouten's gonna grill stuff, 'cause Aguni won't cook on her day off."

He smiled proudly. "Yeah. Grilling is a manly tradition that I like to uphold."

Karura felt that she should point something out. "It's not only a masculine activity, Zouchouten. I'm quite good at it myself."

She almost expected him to say something like "It's a primal male hunter thing, let me have it", but instead he looked even more pleased, if that was possible. "Hey, that's wonderful, Skye. You can help me then."

Kendappa laughed. "Sweetness, more food! And Zou, Vahyu's boyfriend's name is Eduardo…or maybe Andrew. I forget."

As Karura, Kendappa, and Zouchouten all pondered the name of Vahyu's current lover, Kujaku was bounding up Yasha's driveway. So maybe he hadn't had a chance to talk to Karura Skye yet, so what? He would soon. And yeah, perhaps he still had nothing on Taishakuten, but who cared right now?

Because he had brought _cookies. _Everybody loved cookies, after all. Ashura would just adore him for feeding him, and Kujaku liked when Ashura adored him. He rather adored the kid himself.

He had been slightly surprised that he'd liked Yasha's son so immediately and so much, but really, who _wouldn't _love Ashura? He was a sweetie, he was damn cute, and he'd once even _given Kujaku some of his food. _This, Kujaku knew for a fact, was like the boy had torn out his heart and handed it to a quadruple-bypass-needing Playboy One.

Well, okay, it wasn't _that _dramatic, but the food had been a gift. And Kujaku adored gifts, especially gifts of food. _Yes,_ he decided, _the way to my heart is through my stomach_.

So he'd bought the most fattening, sugar-loaded, frosted sprinkled triple-chocolate cookies he could find in thanks. Yasha would just be so pleased, he thought (actually believing this), that his best friend had brought Ashura such delectable cookies!

He trotted up to the door and rang the bell, holding his bag of wonderful food. This was a surprise visit, and everyone loved surprises. Even Yasha loved surprises…well, mostly. He hadn't liked the time he'd woken up handcuffed to the bed. He'd actually gotten mad about that one.

But this wasn't a sex surprise, this was a _food_ surprise! Oh boy, how could Yasha say "no"?

The door opened, and Yasha blinked at him. "Oh. Kujaku. Um, hello." Kujaku held up his gift, shaking it slightly. "I brought coo-kiieees…"

Yasha stepped back to let him in. "Um, thanks. They're raisin oatmeal, I hope?"

Kujaku shook his head in offended exuberance. "Good _heavens _no. They're the best cookies the world has ever seen: triple-chocolate frosted sprinkled bits of nirvana! I got them for Ashura," he told Yasha, grinning proudly.

Yasha did not share Kujaku's enthusiasm. "I see. They're…small cookies, right?" he tried desperately.

Kujaku was a bit confused by Yasha's distinctly unhappy expression. "No, they're huge. I got two for each of us, including you."

Yasha looked trapped, then brightened up. "Ashura's just about to go over to a friend's house, Kujaku. We can't let him get all hyper before he –"

"Yasha, is Kujaku here? I heard his voi– Kujaku!"

A gloriously happy Ashura hug-tackled Kujaku around the waist as the violet-eyed man grinned. "Howdy kiddo! How're you?"

"I'm wonderful!" Ashura assured him. "How are you, Kujaku?"

Kujaku started to say "Well I am just dandy," but a car horn from behind him made him turn. A minivan had just pulled up, and a little boy was opening the door and waving to Ashura.

"Hi Jose!" Ashura grinned. "I'm going over to Jose's house, Kujaku."

Kujaku patted his head. "Okay, don't give Jose's mommy and daddy too hard of a ti–" He stopped short, staring at the "I love her/she kisses" rainbow bumper sticker.

"Jose has two mommies," Ashura said matter-of-factly. He waved with a chirpy "Bye, Kujaku! Bye, Yasha! I love you!" and ran down to the car as Kujaku waved back. He watched the minivan pull away while Yasha pretended to check the mailbox, avoiding his gaze.

"It's Sunday. The mail doesn't come on Sunday," Kujaku told him helpfully.

Yasha slammed the mailbox lid shut. "Yes, _thank_ you, Kujaku. Thank you," he snapped.

"Ashura seems pretty accepting," Kujaku ventured. "I would have thought you'd have fed him some line like 'they're just really good friends who happen to live together'."

Yasha shook his head. "No. My son will be raised knowing how the world works. I'm not going to dance around unpleasant subjects."

Kujaku cocked his own head. "Uh-huh…you ever tell him that you're –"

"Someday I will, if he asks. He doesn't need to know just yet. So far he thinks I turn down all those women's offers of dinner and a movie because I don't want to upset him by taking away his attention."

"That's a change," Kujaku pointed out. "You used to be –"

"Yes, I _know _I used to pretend! I _used _to think my crush on the basketball star who sat next to me in ninth-grade History was just a phase!" Yasha roared, at the end of his rope. "And then _you _came along and smashed it all to hell! For God's sake, Kujaku, my father practically disowned me!"

"Um –"

"He said it was disgusting! I only reconciled with him six months before he died! Goddamn it Kujaku, that was my _father! _Do you know how hard it was to hear him say that to me?"

"No, but…"

Yasha took a deep breath, calming himself down. No sense letting the neighbors hear his rants. "Kujaku, I've accepted it by now. Ashura will accept it too, when he learns about it, because he loves me and thinks I can do no wrong. But I don't want you telling him, all right?"

Kujaku shook his head vehemently. "Of course not. That's up to you. I'd never tell anybody if you didn't want me to."

Yasha studied him, still looking sad. "Good."

Kujaku studied him back; sad Yasha was hard to see. What could he do to make him feel better? "Hey Yasha," he asked quietly, "can I give you a hug? You look like you need one." Poor Yasha, lonely and in pain…an innocent, friendly hug might help.

Yasha opened his mouth, closed it, and said, "C'mon inside."

Kujaku walked in, still holding his bag of cookies, and stood there looking at the other man. "Yasha, I…well, I'm sorry about your father." He hadn't liked the guy personally, but Yasha had loved him very much.

Yasha sighed. "Thank you. He at least got to see my son before he died."

Awkward silence for a long time, then Kujaku finally held up his bag of cookies. "Um, I can leave these here."

He placed them on a table and turned to go. "I'll see you guys tomorrow at the pool, okay?" And just like that, he was gone.

Yasha stared at the bag. He had actually rather _wanted _a comforting hug. He wasn't big on physical contact, but every once in a while it was nice, from someone other than Ashura. His father's death and earlier condemnation always brought up depressing feelings.

He reached out and opened the bag, because he had nothing else to do. Goodness, those cookies were gigantic. He picked one up, put it back down, and decided that he would break them into sixths for Ashura or his son would literally bounce off the walls.

Still, it had been a caring gesture.

The next day, Souma stepped out of her car at a park, wearing a t-shirt and shorts and dangly earrings that she never wore at the dojo. Kendappa opened her door, gave Souma a hug, and pointed to a pale, white-haired woman wearing a bejeweled phoenix shirt. "That's Karura, babe. She's excited to meet you."

The woman came over, extending a hand. "Hello. You must be Souma. I'm Karura Skye." Souma clasped it in one of her own. "I'm Souma Moon. Pleased to meet you."

Karura studied the martial artist and had one thought: _Exotic beauty. _Souma's skin was dark, but her eyes were a vivid emerald green, the legacy of her grandmother, a British aristocrat who'd run off with a young Indian medical student. Souma's hair was shoulder-length, glossy black, and her face was friendly and strong at the same time.

Karura liked her already.

"Hey, Kendie! Eduardo wants an autograph!"

All three women turned to see Vahyu, clad in super-tight jeans and an almost completely open shirt, pulling his boyfriend over to them. As the pleased Kendappa signed Eduardo's arm, Karura's attention was caught by Zouchouten, who had just arrived and was taking off his helmet.

"Hey Skye," he grinned at her, "great day for a picnic, isn't it?"

Carrying the helmet, he walked onto the grass and looked around. "The gang's all here, huh? Well, except for two."

Yes indeed. Save for Hanranya, all of Karura's close coworkers had arrived, and the one person she really disliked wasn't here. And then a car door slammed behind her and Koumokuten's voice said, "Z, what the _hell_ is Beauchamp _wearing?_ Sick."

She turned to look resignedly. Her other boss was himself wearing sunglasses and the inevitable black shirt, black pants, black belt, black shoes, and was going to roast in the heat, if she was lucky.

Koumokuten nodded at her, smiling in what he probably thought was an innocent, friendly way. "Hey there, birdie. Bring your stuff?"

She nodded. "Yes. Did you bring…"

She trailed off, as he had just opened his (black) trunk to reveal no less than three cases of beer. "Yeah, I brought what I wanted," he told her proudly, patting one. "We're set for booze."

Yes, as everyone else had brought actual food and eating utensils, Mr. Monochrome had hauled in beer. Karura sighed and went to go help Aguni, Zouchouten sighed and went over to the grill, and Koumokuten grinned and said, "Yes, come to papa," as he picked his alcohol up.

As Zouchouten got out hotdog buns, he watched Karura out of the corner of his eye. She looked rather happy today, how lovely. Happy Karura was great to see.

_Maybe I can ask her out when she helps me grill stuff, _he pondered. _Maybe I can say something clever like "Hey Karura, you set my soul alight when you tossed those guys into my tables" when she turns up the flame._

_No, that's ridiculously corny, _he decided. _Maybe I should just be casual about it and if – when! Let's think positively here, Zouchouten – she says yes and we're out at some fancy restaurant, I can woo her with flowers and chocolates and promises of "I would fire any other employee if you asked me to, because I love you so damn much."_

_Yeah…yeah! Women like chocolate, and flowers. And I really do love her…_

This might have been a scary thought, if he hadn't accepted that little fact a long time ago with something close to giddiness. She was strong, smart, and fun to be around, she seemed to like him, and she was so damn beautiful he'd once found himself comparing her to his Harley, and the bike had lost in a landslide.

He watched her unpack a cooler, chatting with Aguni, and smiled. Then he watched Koumokuten wander over with a beer in each hand, nodding to both of their chests, and frowned.

He was about to stomp on over there and do something stupid when Karura glared at Koumokuten, making him back away. _And she doesn't take any bullshit from anyone, _Zouchouten thought, proud as a coach whose star athlete had just won an Olympic medal.

Aguni whispered something into Koumokuten's ear. He lit up, set his beer cans down, and trotted off in the direction of the woods with an evilly-smiling head cook leading the way. Zouchouten, however, didn't notice this, because Kendappa had crept up behind him and shouted "Boo!"

He jumped and dropped his hotdog buns. "Dammit, Kendappa, don't _do _that!" he snapped, face red because Karura had started snickering, pointing at them before she realized how rude that was and lowered her arm.

Kendappa laughed herself. "Zou, I was stalking you for a full minute!" she guffawed. "You jumped three feet in the air! Ha ha haa!"

She wiped a tear from her eye. "Oh man, that was funny."

"I'm glad you think so," he muttered, watching Karura open a half-sized can of diet soda. Kendappa tracked his gaze and grinned. "She eats pretty healthy, doesn't she?" she asked rhetorically. "I mean, she turned down chocolate once, Zou. _Chocolate._"

_There goes one make-Karura-like-me idea…_

He shrugged. "She's principled like that."

Kendappa studied him, her head tilted to one side. "She might like whipped cream, though, if you sprayed it on her naked body and licked it off," she suggested, making him dropped the hotdog buns again in shock.

"Kendappa! What she does with her boyfriends is not my concern," Zouchouten lied, stomping on the head of some anonymous figure in his mind. Repeatedly. Very hard.

"I'm not talking about some mythical boyfriend-guy, I'm saying you _personally _should do that," Kendappa chirruped, picking up the forgotten buns and handing them to him. Humming "Candy Shop", she skipped off to help Souma put out the plates Aguni had abandoned.

Zouchouten squeezed the buns like he was crushing the life out of some very naughty thoughts indeed, realized that they were getting irreversibly squished, and forced himself to let them go and put them on a picnic table.

Just then Karura walked over, carrying a tray. "Okay: here's, let's see, the hotdogs, the burgers, the peppers…I think that's it."

"What about the chicken? We need chicken," he told her seriously. "Chicken's important."

She shook her head. "We have so much meat already. Let's not get carried away…"

She said something else, but his mind was currently occupied with a brief vision of throwing her over his shoulder and hauling her back home. _Seriously, this isn't the Neolithic here, Southland. Get a grip, _he mentally chastised himself. _What are you, a thirteen-year-old boy?_

If he hadn't been focusing on not carrying Karura over to his motorcycle then and there_, _he might have found it funny that his mind had gone from flowers and violin music to dragging her off and Nickelback so quickly. As it was, he firmly reminded himself that he didn't have an extra helmet with him, and that did the trick. Risking her safety as he ran far away with her was not something he was prepared to do.

So he smiled, let the chicken issue go gracefully, and watched her as she set the food on the grill. She knew what she was doing, so he left her to it before he made any stupid comments that might well get a hot pair of tongs applied to his skin.

He looked around. Vahyu and whichever boyfriend this one was were happily getting out condiments as Souma and Kendappa set out plastic silverware. Varuna was tossing a football in the air and giving him a hopeful look, and he couldn't figure out where Aguni and Koumokuten had gotten to.

He had a pretty good idea, as they were by far the most libidinous people here (he wasn't counting himself, since that little barbarian fantasy could have happened to anyone) but he decided not to dwell on it. As long as the cook wasn't hitting on him and his friend wasn't hitting on Karura, he was happy. Koumokuten and Aguni probably deserved each other anyway.

"Zouchouten, you wanna throw the ol' pigskin around? I hear you used to be a linebacker in high school," Varuna said enthusiastically. The older man was about to say "Sure" before Varuna continued with, "You know, back in the fifties."

Zouchouten's eyes narrowed. With a bark of "Seventies, idiot," he turned back to the grill.

When the meat and peppers were done, Zouchouten carried his plate over to the picnic table and faced a dilemma. If he sat next to Karura, he could protect her from anyone who might "accidentally" touch her, although Koumokuten hadn't come back yet. But if he sat in _front_ of her, he could look at her without turning halfway around.

His decision made, he had just set his plate down before a tanned hand shoved it aside. "Move over, Zouchouten. I want to sit in front of Skye," Aguni ordered, setting her own plate in the coveted spot. He was about to tell her that he was there _first, _dammit, and whine like a kindergartner, but she patted the seat next to her and offered, "You can sit _next _to me."

He now faced another problem. Aguni made him nervous, and she might spend part of the meal casually rubbing her foot up his leg. But if he said "I'll just sit next to Skye, thanks" she might give him one of those knowing looks that he absolutely hated.

He picked up his plate again. "I think I need more food, Aguni, it's fine." He went back over to the grill and helped himself to another burger. By the time he came back, Souma had sat down next to Karura and Kendappa had sat next to her, leaving Koumokuten to sit next to Aguni, although he was giving her an interestingly-large amount of personal space and glaring at her.

"Z! Pass me beer, wouldja?" Koumokuten hollered. Zouchouten tossed one to him, wondering why his friend's wrists looked chafed and bruised, but too fed up to really care.

Catching his third alcoholic drink, Koumokuten raised it in a salute. "To the Four Gods, and all who work there! Mainly me because I'm the best, but the rest of you can give yourselves some credit too," he decided generously.

His toast did not have the reaction he was hoping for: a wadded-up napkin bounced off his head. "Who threw that?" he snarled, whipping around as Zouchouten roared with laughter. "C'mon, who? Own up!"

From the blanket on the ground, Varuna raised an obedient hand. "That was me! I did that!" He nodded at Vahyu. "He told me to."

Koumokuten started for Tweedledee and Tweedledum, who were giggling like schoolboys, but a calm "You're going to step into that potato salad" from Souma stopped him in his tracks. He looked down, sighed resignedly, and muttered something about docked pay before sitting back down.

Karura passed Aguni the salt, Eduardo fed Vahyu a grape, and Zouchouten smirked at Koumokuten.

All in all, Zouchouten decided later, it had been a decent picnic…despite everything, it had actually been kinda fun.

Yasha too was spending time with a would-be lover. As Zouchouten was concentrating on not kidnapping the object of his affections, Yasha and Ashura were stepping out of their car at the outdoor pool.

"Yasha, is Ryuuy here yet?" Ashura asked as his father rubbed even more sunscreen onto his face.

"No, Ashura. Ryuu won't be here for another half-hour, he –"

"Hey Ashura…guess who's right behind you!"

Ashura turned quickly and brightened up. "Hi Kujaku!"

The agent gave him a grin, wearing sunglasses (of course) and carrying a large cooler. As his son and his friend performed some complicated handshake Kujaku had taught Ashura, Yasha scanned the parking lot. Yes, that car that had been following him was parked there, and the woman who'd been driving it was getting out casually.

Yasha wondered where the other agent was.

Darn it, why did he have to deal with silly espionage games again? He absolutely hated them. They were one of the few things he hadn't missed when he'd moved here to get away from Kujaku. Oh well, Yasha sighed mentally as Kujaku and Ashura found a spot to set their gear down, at least if someone pulled a gun here they'd be safe.

He wondered if Kujaku had hidden a firearm of his own in that cooler. He wouldn't put it past him.

Yasha set his own stuff down and settled back into a chair. He wasn't going to swim, because he'd rather read "The Grapes of Wrath" for the hundredth time. He liked that one.

As Yasha started to read about down-on-their-luck Okies, Kujaku said brightly, "Ooh, they have waterslides! I love waterslides! Don't you, Yasha?"

Yasha looked over, Kujaku started to pull his shirt over his head, and Yasha looked away in steely determination. If he did _not_ look at the guy's chest, he wouldn't be tempted to nibble on it or do something equally inappropriate and embarrassing.

And then Ashura's voice broke into his thoughts. "What's that?" the boy asked his friend curiously. "Did you draw on yourself, Kujaku? Yasha,_ I _want to draw on myself!"

He wasn't going to look, no no no –

"Well, you know, they do make water-soluble markers, and –"

"Which haven't been proven not to cause cancer," Yasha snapped, glaring at Kujaku, then stopping short.

_Tattoo. Chest tattoo. On his chest, _he thought redundantly.

_He'll get skin cancer for sure, _his father-mind said firmly.

Kujaku noticed him staring and smiled. "I got this about two years after I lost touch with your daddy," he told Ashura matter-of-factly. "It's a peacock tattoo." Indeed, a violet bird done in the tribal style stretched from his left (hard) pectoral down his (chiseled) abs and disappeared into his (black) swim trunks. Yasha found himself mentally tracking the tips of its tail feathers.

"A purple peacock? Yasha likes purple peacocks!" the child remembered happily, and Kujaku smirked, watching the man in question flush and shake his head as if to dislodge a pesky thought.

"But why a peacock, Kujaku? Wouldn't you rather have a dragon like Ryuuy wants?"

He laughed. "It's a reference to my name. 'Kujaku' is the Japanese word for 'peacock', Ashura. As for the color, well, it matches my eyes."

"You do have really pretty eyes," Ashura told him seriously. Kujaku laughed again and ruffled the boy's hair. "Thanks, kiddo. So do you. Big golden irises…all the other kids will be jealous and fighting over you in a couple years."

"Ew! Girls have cooties!" Ashura complained. "Ryuuy said so!" Only in jest, but Ashura hadn't known that.

Kujaku frowned. "Is that guy really in high school?"

"Ryuu has…issues," Yasha explained. "His mother is his favorite person, and –"

"Oh, _gross._" Kujaku made a face. "Oedipus complex much?"

"That's not what I meant at all!" Yasha snapped, disgusted. "His mother is the matriarch, and nobody's strong enough for her boy, and she says so and she walks on water to him."

_Speaking of water…_He looked down at the beach bag he'd brought. "Oh, cra– oh _dear,_" he amended for Ashura's benefit, "I forgot to fill the water bottles at home. Ashura, come with me and we'll get some –"

"Whoa, Yasha, the kid's bouncing up and down looking at the fun stuff already. I'll watch him," Kujaku offered.

Yasha considered this, as he had a hard time letting his son out of his sight if he could help it. But then again Kujaku was trustworthy and knew CPR, and Ashura was giving him a puppy-dog look, mouthing "Please?"

Yasha nodded. "Remember not to talk to strangers, son." He walked off in the direction of the water fountain as the comically frowning Kujaku shook a finger at Ashura in exaggerated imitation of his father, making the six-year-old giggle.

No less than four women had surrounded Kujaku by the time Yasha came back. "Ooh, is that your son?" one of them cooed, watching the tattooed man track Ashura's progress down a waterslide like a hawk. "He is just the cutest thing!"

"Oh no, he's not mine. Not yet, anyway," he amended. Yasha couldn't hear what Kujaku said, but had he been able to, he would have had a very hard time deciding whether to punch Kujaku or grab him and carry him off to an empty restroom, then lock the door.

As it was, he found himself ruminating, _Well, it's what you wanted, isn't it? He keeps giving you hints and you keep turning him down and yelling at him. There's no need to get possessive._

He stalked forwards, carrying a water bottle in each hand, as another member of the Ku Fan Club tittered and asked, "Is his mother here?"

"I actually don't know where she is, but –"

"Ashura, come have some water! I don't want you to get dehydrated!" Yasha ordered, and the little boy bounded over. The women watched him come up to the taller man with differing expressions on their faces.

One stared stupidly, clearly not comprehending this; another looked absolutely disgusted; a third seemed to have been expecting something along these lines; and the last one looked like she had won a front-row ticket to a screening of "Attractive Mansex", starring Overprotective Beefcake Father and Pretty Peacock Guy, and couldn't believe her good fortune.

Kujaku rubbed it in. "Oh, here's Daddy! Sorry ladies, I have to go catch the kiddo." Indeed, Ashura had left again. With a wink at Yasha and a brilliant "he's _mine, _not yours" smile at the women, he ran off.

Yasha, despite wanting very much to go after Kujaku and throw him in the deep end, managed to stand his ground and glare. "Is there a problem here?"

"No, of course not."

"Problem?"

"…Wow."

"God hates you, you know."

The other three women grabbed the last speaker and marched her away, despite having absolutely no idea who she was. Yasha stared after them and sighed. Why was life so difficult now?

Boy, did he ever know the answer to _that _question.

He watched Kujaku pick up the happily yelling Ashura, pretend to drop him (Yasha's heart rate sped up at that), and swing the little boy up onto his shoulders. Ashura giggled and pulled Kujaku's hair, and the man winced but told him, "Whoa, little guy, that's kinda painful. Can you let go now?" in a calm voice.

_He's very good with kids. I didn't know that…or maybe I just never noticed, back when – _

Stubbornly shutting out all memories of Back When He Was Mine, Yasha set down Ashura's water bottle and waited for his son and his son's new horsie to come back.

It didn't take long at all. Kujaku walked over, spun around a couple times, then lifted Ashura down and set him in front of Yasha. "Here's your dad, Ashura. Do something cute to make him smile –"

Kujaku's phone rang, and he picked it up and finished, " – while _I _take this call." He wandered off.

Ashura's eye was caught by another child, however. "Yasha, that girl has a Coke! Can I have some?"

"Ashura, a single can of soda pop has more empty calories and carcinogens than five jumbo packages of gummy bears," Yasha lectured as Kujaku put his phone to his ear and ran a hand through glossy hair. "It's _bad_ for you. Just have water."

"But I want pop," Ashura pouted. "Just because _you _never drink it doesn't mean _I _can't."

Yasha laid down the law. "No. Absolutely not."

"But _Ryuuy _let me have some the other day!" Ashura whined. "I liked it!"

Yasha made a mental note to inform Ryuu in no uncertain terms that his son had been cavity-free for six years and was going to stay that way. "You'll have water, Ashura. Now go play in the shallow end of the kiddy pool, and – _don't run! _ASHURA!"

The kid had scampered off, ignoring him completely, and Yasha made a noise like an annoyed tiger. Kujaku strolled over to him, having hung up his phone.

"You want me to put some sunscreen on you? You're turning red already," he offered, and Yasha whirled on him. "NO! Stop trying to get me on my back!"

The grandfather with two toddlers next to them muttered about deviants never being this bold in _his_ day. Kujaku blinked in surprise, rummaging around in the cooler, and Yasha prayed for a freak inland tsunami to swallow him up.

Kujaku held out a can in what he clearly thought was a peace offering. "Dr. Pepper?"

Yasha's water bottle exploded from the force of his grip.

(AN: So I guess we see, in the contest of Koumokuten the Male Chauvinist Pig and Aguni the Dominatrix, which of them is superior, huh? Silly Koumie, nobody messes with Aguni. She's scary!

And yes, Kujaku has serious tribal ink. Koumokuten actually does too, but we won't be seeing his navel tattoo. I'd thought about putting in a scene where he and Aguni argue over who's going to be in charge, but decided it was unnecessary. She won, duh.)


	12. Smile At Me

**Chapter Twelve: Smile At Me**

A week after the picnic, Karura Skye was both happy and quite nervous, standing in the bar in front of her latest informant, who she'd called in favors to get info on. No sense letting such a big fish have all the power, because she'd finally found someone who was willing to talk about Taishakuten King.

She studied the man before her. Jamal Corteza was a dangerous man by reputation, and looking at him now she could see why. His tall stature, barrel chest, and ridiculously well-muscled arms reminded her of nothing less than a black Zouchouten.

But that was where the similarities ended. Where her boss, though intimidating, was always respectful (at least until someone annoyed him), Corteza swaggered through life and had referred to his contact as "white ho who need to be taken down a couple pegs". The gangster had four visible tattoos, one on his thick neck, was obviously carrying various concealed weapons, and was backed up by two other hoods.

Zouchouten, she was pretty sure, would have placed any guns on the table as a gesture of goodwill, come alone, and was uninked as far as she could tell. Plus, he would never, _ever, _be caught dead in jailing pants and neck bling that said "PUSSY".

Corteza smirked. "You Skye? You crazy, bitch. Ain't nobody else wanna talk to J-Dawg all by theyself."

Her boss, Karura thought, was also capable of speaking in a language other than Ghetto. She nodded at Corteza's companions. "Their presence wasn't part of the deal. Get rid of them."

The guards just stood there, hands in the pockets of their baggy jeans and clearly not ready to move, but their handler nodded indulgently. "Go 'head. She try to pull somethin', that her funeral. Go have a drink."

Karura waited until Thug One and Thug Two were well away, then leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Tell me about Taishakuten. Where is he?"

Corteza leaned back, putting his arm around the back of his chair insolently. "You got my money? I ain't tellin' you nothin' if you ain't gonna make it worth my while."

Resisting the urge to point out his double negative, Karura nodded. "You'll get it when you give me the info on King."

"Fair 'nough." Corteza smiled slightly. "You ain't so stupid, for a chick. But Tai King… he ain't stupid at all. Only reason I be willin' to talk 'cause me an' him don't get along."

He fixed her with a penetrating, unnerving stare. "That man a killer. He kill an awful lotta people an' don't bat an eye. He like that shit. Me, I do it 'cause it need to be done sometimes, but _he _do it 'cause he like it.

"He hear a lot, you know. He prob'ly know who you be anyway. But he like to play with his prey sometimes. Draw it out, shit like that. One day you gonna look up an' find a Glock in yo' face."

"Where is he? Tell me where he is," Karura ordered. "He killed my little sister, I know he did. Where is he?"

The gangster smirked. "No way. I tell you that, he pay me a little visit and my life over. He prob'ly won't care if you know he jacked yo' sister, but when he catch you an' make you talk, you ain't gonna squeal on me."

Karura slammed her palms on the table and leaned in. "If he catches me I will kill him. Now where's his base? Here? Chicago? New York?"

Corteza studied her for a few moments, then grinned, revealing two gold teeth. "Damn, bitch, you a crazy muhfucka. I gotta respect that…he in this city for now, an' that all you gonna get outta me. Now," he extended a gaudily ringed hand, "I want my money."

Correctly divining that the interview was over, Karura passed him a stack of bills. He counted them quickly and frowned, good mood gone. "This ain't enough. Gimme the rest."

"It's all I have. It'll be fine," she snapped back.

Corteza shook his head and started to raise a hand to bring his guards back, but her next words stopped him short. "It'll be fine or I'll tell your little thug friends all about your lover. The one you met in San Francisco."

Corteza's face turned purple. "I got so many ladies. Which one?" he bluffed.

Karura's answering smile was sharper than a surgical knife. "The one who isn't a lady at all. Eric. Your sex pal Eric."

Corteza lowered his arm quickly. "I changed my mind. The money acceptable." He stowed it in a pocket and stood up. "You _is _a crazy bitch, Skye." His teeth flashed in a grin. "Shoulda been a hood yo'self. You go for the balls an' don't play around."

"Fo'shizzle," Karura muttered under her breath as Corteza collected his associates and left. "Yes I do."

It was Karura's lucky week on the Taishakuten front, because the very next day she met another helpful person, and this one didn't call her a crazy bitch. She had just asked Zouchouten where Hanranya had gotten to when he suddenly froze, glaring over her shoulder as a new voice said, "Hello. Can I talk to Skye?"

She turned to find a cheerful-looking guy wearing shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, grinning and holding a half-empty mai tai. "Hi there. I'm Ku. Can I have a chat with you?"

Zouchouten was not pleased by this. "You're back. What the hell do you want?"

Ku just smiled some more and gave Zouchouten a finger wave. "Just to talk to Skye here. I have a couple questions…and anyway, isn't that guy getting a little rambunctious?"

He pointed, and yes, Federal Agent Jerry Nawrocki was starting to sing and flail around. Zouchouten frowned, torn between making him shut up and getting Karura away from this mysterious and possibly dangerous other male.

Karura was also torn, because no one had sought her out before and Ku might be useful. On the other hand, she was security and should be dealing with disturbances so Zouchouten wouldn't have to.

Zouchouten sighed, gave Kujaku a warning glance, and went off to make Nawrocki be quiet.

"Great!" Kujaku chirped. "C'mon over here, Skye."

He led her to a table, and they studied each other. Kujaku was for once not wearing his beloved sunglasses, and Karura was once again wearing stud earrings, her hair tucked behind her ears.

She leaned forwards. "Zouchouten seems uncomfortable around you. Why?"

Kujaku sipped his drink and grinned. "Oh, we had a little chat and he took something I said the wrong way. Anyway Skye, you're a former cop, so you know how some people hate talking to…investigators."

Karura raised her eyebrows. "And what are you investigating, and for whom?"

Kujaku smiled again, a deceptively open expression. "Just asking about a nasty guy I have reason to believe may be around here. As for who I'm doing it for…maybe I'm just doing it for me."

Karura didn't buy it. She would be asking for ID, because if Ku here was working for Taishakuten he could be a dangerous person indeed. But if he wasn't, maybe he was a PI? Maybe he was federal? Perhaps this was about something completely unrelated to Taishakuten.

She leaned forwards. "I'd like proof of who you are. I won't talk to just anyone, and I don't even know what you want me to tell you."

Kujaku nodded; he'd come prepared for this. "Well of course, Skye. Smart of you. Mr. Grumpy over there," he indicated the frowning Zouchouten, who was trying to pull Nawrocki's drink out of his hand, "just glared and got pissy."

The agent held up a private investigator's license. It wasn't truly fake, as his job allowed him to have one of these. He wasn't about to pull out his badge unless he knew for a fact Karura wasn't working for Taishakuten or might tell Koumokuten what was up.

Karura studied it, looked him in the eye, and said, "If I can help you, I will. Who are you looking for?"

Kujaku cocked his head, a small smile still on his lips. "Why don't you first tell me who or what _you're _looking for."

"I'm sorry?"

He leaned forwards as well. "You've been in contact with at least one known criminal, Jamal Corteza. I'll bet anything you've talked to more."

Karura asked suspiciously, "And you know this how?" There was no point in lying about it, because Ku seemed very confident about this indeed.

He just laughed. "I have connections, Skye."

_I'll bet you do…maybe you really are federal. FBI? Another agency? _Karura pondered as Kujaku glanced over at Nawrocki, who was giving the incredulous Zouchouten an "I love you man" hug.

Having decided that Kujaku might be helpful, Karura lowered her voice. "I'm looking for a man who might have ordered my sister killed. A crime lord named Taishakuten King."

It was a mark of Kujaku's skill that he didn't drop his jaw and yell something along the lines of "Me too! Except for the sister part." Instead he just nodded. "I see. And what have you found out?"

"Not much," she admitted. "Only that he's in this city."

_That's about all I have too, lady. Except for Oeste's prior involvement with him._

Kujaku decided to be generous, because maybe they could help each other. "You know, Skye, I'm interested in him myself. He's, shall we say, not a nice man."

She seized on this chance. "Maybe we can collaborate."

_Yes yes yes. You seem decent, Skye. I'd hate to see you killed. _He grinned. "Excellent. If you learn anything, let me know, 'kay? And if anything weird happens here, give me a call immediately."

He took out a card and scribbled an address on it. "Now, I'd rather you didn't just show up at my place just to check it out, because if King knows who you are and follows you I could be in trouble."

She just looked at him. "You're not a PI, are you."

It wasn't a question. She too was ironclad in her conclusion, so Kujaku shook his head. "Nope. I'm not telling you what I really am, though. For everyone's protection."

He glanced over her shoulder and grinned as Zouchouten finally managed to peel Nawrocki off of him, only to have the agent start bawling. "And speaking of protection… tell your buddy Zou I'll be around, and that I'm not a threat. Don't tell him or anybody else what I'm after, please."

"No, of course not," she assured him. "And, um, please don't mention what I'm doing here, either."

They shook hands. "Fair enough."

He stood up and started to laugh, and she turned to see why, then stared. The kneeling Nawrocki had grabbed one of Zouchouten's legs, yammering about reincarnated brothers, as the bar owner gave Karura a "Help me please" glance.

She ran right over as Kujaku nodded to Nawrocki and strolled out the door. As the apparently drunken man was escorted out, he noted with some amusement that the big guy had looked like he wanted nothing more than to kiss Karura for having saved him.

Nawrocki staggered off, turned a corner, straightened up, and laughed as Kujaku fell into step with him. "So Ku…any luck?"

The purple-eyed man grinned. "I think I got very lucky, Jerry. Very lucky indeed."

The next night, Yasha locked his bathroom door and sighed. Ashura was at a friend's house, he was all alone in _his _house, and he was going to do something necessary and overdue.

Stripping and walking into his shower, he wasn't too disturbed by his upcoming actions or what he'd be thinking about, because after all, he'd been getting off to thoughts of Kujaku for over eight years. Kujaku had once caught him, and given the red-faced, embarrassed Yasha a pervy grin.

"Well hello…couldn't wait, huh? That's okay," he'd reached out, "I'm here to help now."

And he had been very helpful indeed, in this arena of "make Yasha feel really good". Yasha had lost his virginity to a teenage girl when he'd been sixteen, and had not enjoyed it much at all. He'd been blown by a couple of other women, and that had been better, but to get _himself _off, no matter what he'd started out thinking of, he'd had to think of two men.

He never thought of himself and a man, because he'd been too ashamed, until he'd met that handsome, violet-eyed guy in the grocery store. He'd had dinner with him, had fun, come home…and had the absolute best orgasm of his life (so far). When he'd finished, Yasha had sprawled back and thought "Am I gay?"

Logic had immediately said, "Yes, of _course._"Pride had immediately protested, "But we can't tell anybody!"

He had been ready to call Kujaku and tell him in no uncertain terms, "Look, I don't think I can have dinner again," but at that moment his phone had rung. He'd reached out a trembling, sated arm and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hey Yasha, this is Kujaku! I…well, I just wanted to tell you I had a lot of fun tonight. I really, _really _can't wait for next Tuesday."

And Emotion had banded together with Logic and overthrown Pride. "I did too, Kujaku. I quite enjoyed it too." He'd taken a deep breath, and said, "Where do you want to go on our next date?"

Kujaku had sounded so damn _happy _as they'd discussed logistics.

Kujaku had sounded so damn happy when he'd told Yasha, "I love you, Yasha," four weeks later.

Kujaku had sounded so damn happy when he'd asked, "Can I kiss you?"

Kujaku had sounded _ridiculously _happy when they'd been naked and touching each other, making moans and other little sex noises.

And Yasha had enjoyed it too, far more than anything before it. They didn't do certain things _too_ much, but it was mutually good. And unlike yaoi fanfictions, there was no "dominant male and submissive male" set in stone: they switched it up.

Yes, in the end, Yasha had accepted his homosexuality. Kujaku had unchained him from his denial and chained him with those stupid handcuffs he'd liked to play with instead, because he'd captured Yasha's heart, Yasha's body, and Yasha's mind.

And now he was back in the teacher's life, being his son's new best friend. The man was narcissistic, annoying, cocky, perverted, exasperating, immature, and obtuse.

And Yasha wanted him in the worst way.

But let us leave Yasha Yama alone in the privacy of his shower and turn instead to Zouchouten Southland, who had just informed his own beloved that it was break time, damn it, and by law she had to take one.

"Look," he growled, "I should be making you take three. You should _want _to take three, and a meal break. Everyone else does!"

"You don't," she pointed out. "You eat your food on the run, and you put it down even if you're about to take your first bite when someone needs something. And then you forget about it and get angry because it went bad, hours later."

He blinked at her, somewhat shocked that she'd noticed this little fact. (But really, everybody knew about the spoiled food thing. Vahyu won a lot of bets on that particular subject; Zouchouten just didn't _know_ they all knew.)

"That's…different," he muttered. "I can't sue myself."

"Well I won't sue you either," she shot back, turning to go.

"Skye, if you do not take a break right _now, _I will drag you up to the break room and lock you inside. And I will make sure the window is closed," he added for good measure.

She paused, studying him. He was serious. _Damn._

Karura, it should be obvious by now, was a workaholic. She was good at what she did and had a hard time shutting off. She felt somewhat guilty, sitting back and eating a sandwich while everybody else served drinks, and waited tables, and broke up a bar fight involving chairs, switchblades, and a man's head used like a battering ram. Although to be fair that had only happened once, and she'd run right out and helped.

But Zouchouten was glaring, and while this was quite hypocritical he was going to make her take a stupid, time-wasting break, sitting by herself while the action happened down here.

And then an idea occurred to her, and she gave him a sunny smile. He didn't trust it at all.

"All right, Zouchouten. I'll take a _half-hour _break…"

Yup, she was going to pull something –

"…I'll sit right here and have some of Aguni's shrimp, and _you_ can go do crowd control by the stage, while I eat my dinner and _relax._"

She pulled out a chair and sat down emphatically, pulling off her "SECURITY" lanyard and crossing her ankles. "Have fun."

The best part was, she could still jump up and be useful if something happened, then go back to her shrimp, which was of course to die for. Yes, he could be as heavy-handed as he wanted, but he couldn't make her leave because she was on _break _and didn't have to obey him.

A corner of his mouth turned up. "Chalk up a point for you. That was clever."

He seemed about to smack her on the shoulder in a "well done, grasshopper" manner, but apparently remembered the "do not touch Skye" rule. "I'll tell Aguni to make you your favorite."

She smirked at him, feeling triumphant. _Oh yes…for all you're my boss, I wear the pants here, Zouchouten. _

That thought made her pause. They didn't have_ that _kind of relationship, no matter how her mind kept throwing little domestic scenes at her. She knew he liked her, possibly loved her, and this was both flattering and slightly frightening. She knew he thought she was attractive; while he had a good poker face one look at his amber eyes, and the way they gazed at her like she was a treasure, told her volumes.

He was still standing there, grinning at her, and she thought perhaps she should stop teasing him. "Why don't you take a break too?"

He seemed to be considering this. "Well, I don't know..."

"Kendappa's doing a slow song. Nobody riots at a slow song."

And indeed, Gandarajah had switched from power rock to romantic rock. It was a new song to Karura, and one Kendappa seemed to be pouring all her emotion into as she sang to Souma, who was standing right in front of the stage.

Zouchouten and Karura watched them silently, him with a small smile on his face and her a little enviously. It seemed so easy, the way the musician told her lover in a song what she felt…

"Hey Zouchouten, can you check if we ordered any more scotch?" a bartender's voice cut into her thoughts, and as she turned Zouchouten was already gone. That was a good thing, she thought, relieved at the interruption. This music was dangerous.

It could never work, she told herself firmly. He was over twenty years older than her, for one thing, and maybe this was all just some sort of hero-worship taken too far.

That made an awful lot of sense, she realized. She'd practically hit rock bottom, and maybe _anyone_ who'd been kind to her at that point would have been a prime candidate for this sort of adolescent nonsense. Granted, she'd never encountered these feelings before, but then she'd never been that low before either.

She idly tapped her fingers on the table as she thought. Perhaps she shouldn't be so surprised by all of this, because it could very well have been a natural response to the pressures of this new environment. He was safe, to an extent, and in a strange place people always tend to cling to what they perceive to be less frightening than everything else.

As she became completely comfortable here, she reasoned, it would pass. It had to. The smartest thing to do now might be to pretend it had never happened in the first place.

The words of the song washed over her: "I know this love is passing time, passing through like liquid, and…I'm drunk in my desire…"

She glanced over at him to find him watching her, and as their eyes met, her thoughts mirrored the lyrics perfectly.

_But I love the way you smile at me…_

Zouchouten nodded to the bartender and walked over, patrons getting out of his way like he was some sort of barge and they were tiny speedboats. Karura felt somewhat like a boat herself, one that was rapidly taking on water and in acute danger of going under.

She held her ground as he approached, because she hated running and she had just as much right to be here as he did. It then occurred to her that that wasn't entirely true, as he owned half the place and she just worked there, but by then it was too late to leave without looking weak.

Smiling, Zouchouten extended a hand to her. "Dance with me?" he asked quietly.

Karura stared at it as if she had no idea what to do. "I shouldn't. I mean, I have to – I have to use the restroom," she said hastily, getting up and backing away.

"Oh. All right." He withdrew his hand, and she thought she saw a flicker of disappointment on his face. "Don't let me stop you."

She practically ran to the ladies' room, face pink. She slammed the door open, ignored the sounds of two women moaning in the handicapped stall, and made a beeline for the sink, splashing water on her face in the hope that it would banish the flush from her skin. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she almost couldn't recognize herself. She looked…_excited._

_Will attention from any man who's nice to you get you like this? When did you become a wanton woman, Karura Skye? He only asked you to dance!_

She dried her face and hands with a paper towel and sighed, thinking in resignation, _He's probably standing outside the door, crossing his arms and waiting so patiently that I'll feel bad for him and decide to dance after all. He's just that kind of man._

When she came out and he was nowhere to be seen, she was irrationally furious.

(AN: Agent Nawrocki's name is a reference to "Veggie Tales", of all things. See if you can figure it out. Yes, I know it's odd that as a, shall we say not-religious person, I love a show about singing vegetables teaching kids Bible stories, but actually it's quite good-naturedly hilarious.

The song Kendappa was singing actually belongs to Sarah McLachlan, and is called "Elsewhere". It's a beautiful song, and the last bar scene was written around it.

So, will Taishakuten get wind of Karura's knowledge of his location? I dunno, what do _you _think? Will Yasha throw Kujaku over his shoulder and carry him up to his bedroom? Gee, wouldn't _that _be nice. Will Zouchouten ever make a serious move on Karura? Hmm…I sure hope so! And will Vahyu vamp shamelessly? Oh yes he _will_.)


	13. Come To Me

The sky looked ashen from the windows of Zenmi Industries. Kisshouten stood looking out her wall of glass, wondering if it would start raining before Tenou left. The young man had dashed into the office, tie skewed and without having had breakfast, at 8:05 that morning, panting "Sorry I'm late, my mother wouldn't let me leave." He had obviously forgotten his raincoat, but he had _not _forgotten his briefcase.

Kisshouten thought this was a metaphor for Tenou's life here: he'd forget things for himself, but for the company he was spot-on. He was a good boy.

Well, not _boy. _Young man with boyish enthusiasm for his job. He was twenty years old, he was dedicated, and she truly liked having him here. He was a sweet guy who worked incredibly hard and understood her and made sure she ate lunch. She was beginning to think that if he suddenly left she might start crying.

If he left, she realized, she would be back with no one to commiserate with, no one to give her a sandwich after Bishamonten had hurt her…although really, Bishamonten left her pretty much alone now. No doubt he was busy with his horrible crimes.

Kisshouten often had wonderful dreams about her husband dying, setting her free. She'd considered killing him herself, as she still had her father's gun in her sleeping room. But it wouldn't change much. Taishakuten would still be alive, and he might very well destroy the entire building in retaliation. If more innocent people died because of her, Kisshouten would never be able to handle it.

_I can handle repeated rape…I can handle being forced to commit white-collar crime…I can handle handing over money to a mob boss…but I can't handle being the reason anyone else dies._

She had once, after a hard day, almost told Tenou what had happened to Jonathon Burkowitz-Jones, just to have someone to talk to about it. That lovely Ms. Skye had asked questions months ago, but of course Kisshouten hadn't been able to tell _her _about Jonathon's death, and how his new wife had screamed and screamed, pounding the walls.

But the CEO ended up not telling her assistant, because why burden Tenou any more than she had to? Although she hoped Karura would someday find justice for her sister's murder, Kisshouten kept it all inside.

Bishamonten had once mentioned Karura's name, for what reason Kisshouten hadn't been sure. She'd simply said "Yes, poor woman" and he had smirked in that arrogant way he had, but said no more. Kisshouten hoped that Karura was safe; she liked her, even though she had only met her twice.

Karura had given the older woman a number, which Kisshouten had not called. Instead, she'd thrown the paper away after tearing it up. No, Kisshouten could never escape, she was sure, but Karura Skye had reached out to her and that had meant something. It had meant that she wasn't alone.

Well, she amended as she watched Tenou staple a proposal, she really wasn't alone now. She had dear Tenou.

"Kisshouten," he grinned a minute later, passing her another cookie from the box Sylvia had brought in, "I hear it's going to storm today. What happens if we get a siren?"

She accepted her cinnamon treat and smiled at him. "Well, we shut down our computers and go into the basement. I have my own room…" she grinned then, "that I never use. We all sit there with our laptops and smartphones and work for a while, and then we talk about work, and then we talk about other things, and by the time the warning's passed we're all laughing at someone's story."

Tenou grinned back. "Wow. At my house, we sit in the basement and Mother whines while Father stays upstairs and dares the storm to come get him." Despite who they were talking about, both of them thought this was rather amusing.

Tenou took a cookie of his own and brushed red bangs out of his eyes. As he chatted about storms in college and high school and elementary school, Kisshouten really looked at him. His red hair was a bit longer than shoulder-length, gathered into a loose ponytail that always seemed to get looser as the day went on. His eyes were a clear, peridot green, he also seemed to always lose his suit jacket by the day's end, and he hated wearing ties.

She thought that was a shame, as Tenou looked rather dashing in a tie. But this one was still crooked, even at two in the afternoon.

She told him, "Hold still," and fixed it for him. "There, Tenou. Now you look nice again."

He flushed, thanked her, and went off to make some photocopies as she watched his retreating back, smiling rather bigger than she would have with anyone else.

It still hadn't rained by the time the Four Gods closed. Karura sighed; she had of course come prepared for such weather, but Zouchouten, she thought exasperatedly, had brought that motorcycle instead of a car.

Silly man. She'd have to have a talk with him at some point.

It had been three weeks since her talk with Kujaku, and she'd met him again and again, a couple times at a park in broad daylight. He'd given her little information, and she'd been unable to give him much either. She knew he'd talked to a couple other people at the bar, and unbeknownst to her he'd installed a small camera on her car just in case.

But she still asked questions of informants, even though she got nothing after Corteza, and was starting to think that maybe she should pull back. Lying was getting harder and harder, and eventually someone would notice. Either Koumokuten would come over and say something like, "Don't talk to these losers. Kick 'em out and talk to me instead, or you're fired," or Zouchouten would get wind of it and stare at her with disappointment on his face.

And that would be the much harder reaction to take.

He was talking now: "Skye, let's head out."

She nodded and fell into step behind him, Vahyu bouncing along next to her. "Hey Skye, that was so cool how you did that pivot leg-kicking thing earlier! That guy went down and stayed down, huh?"

She nodded, feeling rather proud. "I'll teach you sometime, Vahyu."

He smiled broadly, fanning himself with his paystub. "Oh Skye, you're my new best friend." He glanced at his fan, and grinned some more. "Except for Mr. Paycheck here."

Something then dawned on Karura, and she gasped. "I forgot mine!"

Vahyu looked at her like she was a complete and utter lunatic. "Again? Skye, this is the second time you've left hard-earned dough in the office. Why don't you just do direct deposit?"

"I never got around to it," she answered truthfully, and Vahyu rolled his eyes. "Your family must've been very, very rich if you can just forget money like that."

She glared and started walking again. "Well, it's too late today, I'll just get it tom–"

"Zou, Skye forgot something!" Vahyu hollered, waving his hand in the air to get his boss's attention. Zouchouten turned immediately.

"Okay, let's go get it." He took out his keys again, and a beaming Vahyu gave Karura a slight push towards the door. "That is just so _nice _of you, Zou," he flirted, cocking a hip and putting a hand on it. "I'll bet you'd do the same for _me, _'cause you're just so _sweet, _huh?"

_No, Vahyu, I'd make you get it tomorrow, actually. But she's not you, thankfully._

Zouchouten shook his head. "I'm not sweet, cut that out. I just think it'd be a shame if Skye needed whatever it is she forgot, that's all."

Vahyu fluttered his eyelashes for calculated annoyance, then ran off, laughing, before Karura could punch him for touching her.

Violence, however, was the last thing on her mind as she watched Zouchouten unlock the door. Instead, too many thoughts to count were flashing through her head. The highlights were something like this:

_Alone with Zouchouten._

_Could be seen as inappropriate._

_He would never do anything to me._

_We're just getting my check._

_But why not have a drink?_

_Talk to him._

_He's nice._

_I like him. A lot._

_Maybe I could…_

He opened the door and frowned. "Aw, damn. I forgot to turn off the sound system anyway. Good thing you remembered you forgot something." Karura thought about telling him it was Vahyu's idea, but settled for smiling and thanking her boss.

"It's really nice of you to let me go get my check," she told Zouchouten as she followed him down the hall, those lights having been switched on again.

He sighed, sounding slightly annoyed. "Your check? Skye, this is what, the third time? Just give me your info and I'll fill out the damn paperwork for direct deposit myself, if you don't want to do it."

"I'll do it tomorrow, Zouchouten," Karura assured him. "I will. I'll remember."

"Okay." He nodded up at the office. "I'll unlock that too."

Once she'd grabbed her paycheck, he turned to go. "Just let me turn off that stupid music, and we can go home."

_Oh, how I wish you were going home with me, Karura._

…_Stop that, Zouchouten! When did you turn into Koumokuten?_

Oblivious to his unintentionally romantic thoughts, Karura was saying, "Actually… Zouchouten, let's have a drink."

He stopped, his foot held above the first stair. "You want to have a drink. After midnight. When the bar's closed."

She managed to fight down the flush rising to her cheeks. "It's been a difficult day. You hardly ever drink on company time, and neither do I. We could both probably use one."

Too busy with the differing but rather similar little scenarios that had arisen in each of their mind's eyes, both Karura and Zouchouten forgot that as responsible drivers, you should _never _have a drink before getting behind the wheel (or the handlebars), even if the object of your affections _is_ gazing at you and slightly red for some reason.

He smiled then. "Okay Skye. It'll be fun."

She followed him down the stairs, thinking to herself that she was winning. He'd obeyed her request! Now she could execute her plan of making him talk to her all alone, and maybe even –

"Let me turn on the light." Zouchouten headed for the switch on the wall as Karura headed for the bar. Having given the room illumination, he then turned as she held up a bottle of vodka and turned around herself. "Strongest stuff I know of." She set it down and sighed. "I need it tonight."

"That stuff will kill you in the long run, you realize. Or at least make you do very stupid things right now," he warned her.

She frowned. "I'm not an idiot, Zouchouten. I wasn't born yesterday. Besides," she needled him, "I hear that _you _make a habit of imbibing a lot of it, so what gives you the right to lecture _me?_"

"Maybe the fact that I _do _tend to consume it regularly and have a much higher body mass index than you do?" he answered, deadpan. "C'mon, what's this about? I remember telling you before that you don't seem the type of person to drink just to get wasted."

"I'm not going to get _wasted, _I'm going to drink a little bit of it to relax me and put it down when I start feeling buzzed." She nodded towards a cabinet. "Can you get out some shot glasses?"

He sighed, clearly still unconvinced, but did as she requested while Karura carried the bottle over to a table in the corner between the bartop and the wall. Upon turning around, he blinked and nearly dropped the shot glasses as he saw where she was.

That particular piece of furniture had been labeled "The Loveboat" by Koumokuten, because people who sat there had a habit of staring into each other's eyes and holding hands. As far as Zouchouten knew, there had been three proposals there, and while he knew that logically, there _had_ to have been gloomy single people sucking down Cosmopolitans sitting at that spot, he'd usually only seen starry-eyed couples.

Karura was looking at him oddly. _She might not know, _he told himself. _She probably thinks it's just the closest small table, and doesn't like having to turn sideways while talking to someone and that's why we won't be at the counter._

He walked over and set down the shot glasses. "I'd recommend only having one of these," he warned her as she poured. "It tends to –"

He broke off as she grabbed a glass and chugged it. _Holy…_

Karura wasn't coughing in agony, he was glad to see. Instead she set her shot glass down with a "chink!" and smiled, her eyes watering but looking proud of herself. "What were you saying?" she asked. "I thought you were telling me I couldn't handle it." Her voice was hoarse but haughty.

_Crud, I forgot what a chip on her shoulder she has. I should have used reverse psychology._ But then, because he was competitive to the extreme as well, Zouchouten slammed one back himself. "Now we're even," he told her, smirking. "Let's both just slow it down before we collapse on the floor."

She filled the glasses again, clinking hers against his in a toast. "All right. To…" She looked around for something to salute. "To Latin pop music," she told him earnestly, looking at the speaker above their heads.

"Sure…Latin…pop music." He glanced up. It _was _kind of loud with nobody else around, so he started to stand up. "Hold on, I'll go turn off Ricky Martin."

"I'm surprised you _recognize _Ricky Martin," Karura almost chuckled.

"Well, you know, this sound system is on a continuous loop," he evaded, and she let him.

"Don't turn it off, I like this song."

"Okay, I'll keep it on for you," he said magnanimously. She smiled and asked rhetorically, "You would, wouldn't you? You like me."

"Yeah, of course I do. You're a nice lady who works hard and has had a lot of obstacles thrown at her," he replied, stepping around her meaning cautiously, because she wasalready getting a little too chatty and could very well have meant it in a fully non-romantic way.

She took another swallow of vodka. "Karyoubinga would've liked you," she told him sadly.

"Who's Karyoubinga?"

"My little sister." Karura said it quietly, pain in her voice.

"Oh. I'm sorry." He studied her. She didn't seem to be bursting into tears, so he hazarded, "Was she similar to you?"

"No…Karyou was a gentle soul. She thought the world was a wonderful place, she saw good in everyone, and she was trying to teach Garuda to sing 'I Love You, You Love Me'."

"How'd it happen?" Zouchouten asked quietly.

Karura gazed into memories. "She was over at a friend's house. Her friend's mother let two nine-year-olds walk to the toy store by themselves, and some maniac drove by and shot them both. Julie lived. Karyou didn't."

"Skye…I'm so sorry." No _wonder _she'd tackled the killer in the courtroom and smashed three tables.

"Yes." She returned to the present. "It's been a year. I'll never recover, but I've learned to accept it."

"I think you are the single strongest person I know." He smiled slightly. "And I've known some very strong people."

"Thank you, Zouchouten. That means a lot, coming from you."

The chorus of the song swelled in the loaded silence that had fallen: "Why can't you _come _to me…?"

Zouchouten considered this. She obviously liked him well enough, he was in love with her, they were alone without fear of being interrupted by somebody needing something stupid, and the mood was right. _Go for it._

"You know, um, Karura, you've been here for awhile now, and we know each other pretty –"

"You just think you know me. You haven't picked up on what I've been doing here," she said absently, taking another drink.

He stilled, staring at her. "What?" he finally managed, sounding a little too intense. Then it dawned on her what she'd just said.

_Shit._

"What exactly _have _you been doing here?" he asked, like he was afraid of the answer but had decided it was far better to know what he was dealing with than to be in the dark about it.

_Oh no, he probably thinks I've been selling my body or distributing drugs. _But she hesitated, because for some reason she thought telling him she'd been meeting scummy informants in his gin joint might be an even worse situation in his eyes.

"What _have _you been doing? Karura?" Zouchouten was getting angry now, golden eyes flashing, and looking like a lion about to eviscerate an antelope if the antelope didn't tell him the truth right this very _minute._

"Nothing illegal, really!" she hastened to reassure him. It was semi-true.

"There's a lot of dangerous things you can do that are legal." He slammed his shot glass down so hard it cracked, leaking vodka onto the table, but neither paid it any mind. "Not to mention immoral."

"No, Zouchouten, really, I was just asking people who had my sister murdered! I had to find out what was

–"

"_Here? _You played secret spy _here?_"His sudden incensed bellow rattled the bottles over the counter. "You asked dangerous questions in _my _bar, on company time, because the authorities weren't doing their job well enough for you? Hell, Skye, is that why you threw those guys into my tables? So I'd offer you a job?"

"No, no!" she pleaded. "I just couldn't let Karyou take a bullet and –"

Zouchouten roared, "And you decided to use this place as a base of operations? I can't believe you _lied _to me –"

"I didn't lie to you!" she yelled, stopping him short. "I didn't know when I got this job! I didn't know what would happen, I didn't know what I'd find out –"

"You lied by omission," he growled. "The minute you contacted those people, you should have told me. Instead, you kept me in the dark while you used us as _cover!_" he snarled.

"My sister was _killed, _Zouchouten! She died because someone wanted to send me a message to leave them alone! I can't just let them get away with that!"

"Listen to yourself, Karura! The type of people you're describing won't be very pleased that you _haven't _left them alone. Who's going to get caught in the crossfire next? Kendappa? Varuna? Some innocent person you've never met? Could you really live with yourself knowing you could have saved them by letting it go?"

They glared at each other, vodka and music long forgotten.

"You are a complete and absolute _fool, _Skye. I thought you were smarter than this." Zouchouten pushed his chair back with a screech against tile and got to his feet, looming over Karura like some sort of angry siege tower.

"Are you going to fire me?" she whispered, her heart in her throat.

He looked at her for a long time, then sighed. "No. No, I'm not. You've done a good job here. Even Koumokuten likes you, and he hates almost everybody. But I can't let you put us all in jeopardy like you have been. You do what you want on your own time, but I'm telling you right now that if you pursue this here, I'll have no choice but to let you go."

She bowed her head. "I understand. Thank you."

He seemed about to say something else, but apparently thought better of it as he turned and headed to the door, leaving her alone. She stared at the wall as she heard the sound of a motorcycle, soon swallowed up by the night, then she rushed into the bathroom and made herself throw up all the alcohol she'd imbibed.

(AN: Uh-oh…cliffhanger! Well, what did you _expect, _Karura? Using Zouchouten's bar to meet underworld characters and hiding it from him…tsk-tsk. And he's pretty upset, if he just left the bar unlocked like that.

The Latin pop music they were listening to was indeed Ricky Martin, and the song is called "Come To Me." It's a good song. The fact that Zouchouten can recognize it should hopefully give you all a hint that he's not as badass in every area of his life as he would have everyone believe.

I do hope he didn't come off as too much of a heartless bastard here, because he was right, Karura is endangering everybody. Sure she has a good motivation, but the authorities are the authorities for a reason! Vigilante justice is really not a good idea, no matter what "The Dark Knight" and "V For Vendetta" tell you. I love both movies, but c'mon now.

Sorry this chapter was so short. The next chapter is probably the most important one, as it sets the rest of the story in motion. Will they hate each other? Will she quit? Will Zouchouten go off the road for riding a Harley in the rain? Oh let's hope not, to all of those questions.)


	14. Never Be The Same

(AN: Please be forewarned that this chapter contains sex. That is all.)

Karura locked her door behind her, ripped her rain jacket off, tossed her keys on the table, and slumped onto the couch, the very picture of misery. She'd finally gotten it all out in the open, and Zouchouten had snarled at her like she'd mortally wounded him.

The rain pouring down her window made a perfect soundtrack to this scene of despair. She watched it for a while, her mind carefully blank, then forced herself to stand up and walk into her bathroom. She brushed her teeth three times to get rid of the lingering taste of vomit, then leaned her head on the mirror with a "thunk".

"_You are a complete and absolute fool, Skye. I thought you were smarter than this." _Zouchouten's disappointed voice rumbled through her head, and she bit her lower lip in agony.

_So did I. Instead I got emotionally involved with a man who's old enough to be my father while I used his bar as a contact point for investigating Karyou's death, which for all I know might have been just what it seemed: a tragic random shooting._

_Genius. Sheer genius, you stupid bitch. And then you got half-sloshed because you'd been thinking, hey, it'll give you the courage to ask him out, and then he might kiss you. Maybe more. _

_Slut._

He'd probably have turned her down anyway, saying something like, "I try not to take advantage of drunken women, Skye. Go sleep it off and I'll see you tomorrow when you're sober."

Yes, he would have taken away her drink, just like he had when they'd met. And maybe if he hadn't, she would have ended up in a court-ordered alcohol dependency support group and never started this whole stupid snowball rolling in the first place.

She pulled her head back and opened her eyes. What did she see, staring back at her?

A twenty-six-year-old woman with white hair and pale skin, wearing earrings even though that was dumb in her line of work, trying desperately not to cry because she'd been taken to task by one of her bosses…a man who, despite his stupid macho tendencies and ludicrous attachment to an old motorcycle, was a decent person and didn't deserve to have his life and livelihood put on the line for her.

She smacked her palm onto the mirror, unable to look herself in the eye any longer. _Idiot! IDIOT! He was right, you know. You're just endangering everyone, and you lied to him, so now he'll never trust you again. _

She swiped angrily at her teary eyes. That last part was the most painful, although every point her mind had made stung. She'd worked so hard, put up with so much, been so proud of earning Zouchouten's respect, and now she'd thrown it all away.

If he'd ever really loved her at all, he hated her now for what she'd done.

And that _hurt. _It hurt more than when she'd broken her ankle when she was a little girl. She could handle physical pain, but she had always had trouble with emotions. Many people saw her as a frigid bitch, and a lot of the time she _could _run on logic, but when something strong knocked on the barred door of her heart she crumbled.

Karyoubinga's death had nearly driven her berserk, but she'd shoved her anger and grief down and made it shut up and denied it, and then it had burst out in a flood at the sight of the man who'd killed her sister. Her father's suicide had helped with repressing it, because she'd been so numb after that.

_If I don't let it out, it will consume me._

Should she quit? Should she walk into the office, give her two weeks' notice, and turn her back on everyone there? She couldn't just disappear without a word, as she had a sense of duty and Zouchouten knew where she lived anyway.

He'd show up at her door and yell, and she'd scream back, but she still wouldn't hate him.

_Weak…so weak. Sometimes I wish my heart was a stone…_

She wiped more tears away as something occurred to her then. _But if I had no emotions, I could never have loved my family: Mom, Dad, Karyou, and Garuda._

She made herself walk out of her bathroom and into the living room, turning to her bookshelf and sighing. Karyoubinga's picture smiled at her, and she walked over and picked it up, her lips trembling. Her sister would have made her feel better. Karyou would have sung to her, or suggested a game, or just hugged her in companionable silence until the hurt drained away.

_I don't know how to make it go away now, Karyou. I wish you were here._

Karura bowed her head as the tears fell, and then, suddenly, she could have sworn she heard Karyou's voice:

_Go to him._

Her head shot up, and she gazed at nothing. _I can't. He wouldn't listen now. I couldn't take it if he slammed the door in my face._

But the idea had been planted, and was taking root quickly. She felt confused, torn in two different directions, and more afraid than when she'd faced down a cocaine-addled gangbanger with a machine gun. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and employed a trick that had never failed her. _What would you do if you weren't afraid?_

_Go to him._

She nodded to herself. If she didn't, she'd regret not having even tried, and she had lived her life with few regrets. She wasn't about to start having them now.

Karura wiped her eyes and picked up her keys. _This is your last chance to turn back and not risk rejection, _her mind warned. _If you go now, you'll admit that you need him and you will __never__ be the same_.

She lifted her head high and walked out the door.

Zouchouten poured himself a shot of whiskey, thought better of it, and made it a double. Fucking hell, what a day. He'd been made a fool of, and that didn't happen often. He stalked over to his living room windows, drink in hand, and watched the thunderstorm rage outside. It matched his mood perfectly.

_Really_, he thought angrily, _why didn't I fire her?_ He would have been more than justified in doing so. Karura was obviously not as trustworthy as he'd thought, and she'd taken him in completely, to the point of affection, and –

That was why he hadn't fired her, wasn't it? He'd let himself fall victim to one of the oldest tricks in the book.

But had she meant it to happen like that? He frowned, staring out at the rain pelting his lawn. Maybe she hadn't. Maybe he'd just been imagining the way she'd looked at him. Maybe it hadn't even entered her mind that he might be interested in her.

He glared into his drink. Somehow, that almost made it feel worse. Falling for someone who you had no chance of getting was never a nice experience. He felt like she'd ripped his heart out as it was, and to realize that she'd probably not done it on purpose made him want to punch a wall until his knuckles bled or he put his fist through drywall, whichever came first.

He wasn't pleased by how he'd behaved either, now that he thought about it. The woman's sister had _died, _and he'd basically told her to forget about justice. All right, she _was _putting everybody in danger and that had had to stop, but he could have been a little more compassionate instead of ordering her around like a drill sergeant and calling her a fool.

And he'd almost told her he loved her. He'd been _that _close to confessing his feelings, egged on by Ricky Martin, and then he'd snapped and been a total monster to a desperate woman who'd only ever looked at him with trust in her eyes.

It was enough to make him pour his expensive whiskey down the drain, which he did. Then he stood in his kitchen, staring blankly at the sink, until his doorbell rang suddenly.

He stomped over to answer it, thinking to himself that it didn't matter now, anyway. It wasn't like she would apologize after how he'd yelled at her, and if _he _tried to apologize she'd just –

Zouchouten yanked the door open, ready to kill Mrs. Feeny from next door, then stopped short, staring. Karura stood before him, soaked to the bone, her hair slipping out of its tie and her eyes red.

_Am I drunk? How much booze did I have? _he wondered in confusion, blinking furiously to make the hallucination go away. She was still there, though, and finally he snapped out of his daze and beckoned her inside. "Please come in…Karura," he said quietly.

Sniffing a little, she did so, then stood dripping on the tiled floor. She said nothing, and seemed to be holding back tears.

"I'll go get you something dry," he said distractedly, and without waiting for an answer, turned and practically ran down the hallway. Karura bit her lip, then looked around. It was a well-kept house, roomy, airy, nice big yard and a view of the hills.

She could see a spacious living room down the hall, and what looked like a kitchen after that. It was a comfortable space, no superfluous potted plants or antique furniture that she could see, and somehow she just _knew _that there were no pets. _I'll bet he's extremely lonely, _she thought with pitying sadness.

Heavy footsteps coming closer made her turn. Zouchouten was back, bearing a white robe. "Here," he said gruffly, handing it to her and indicating the bathroom. "You can change in there."

"Thank you." She opened her mouth again, shut it, gave him a look of desperation, and walked into his bathroom as he stared after her helplessly. Once she'd locked the door, she looked around. Again, it was well maintained, and the mirror was big enough that she could see her entire torso as she stripped off her shirt.

_I should have taken my raincoat, _she sighed in her mind as she wrestled with soaked, clinging cotton. She briefly considered taking off her bra, but nixed that idea in record time. That would be more than a little inappropriate, being alone in her boss's house with said boss wearing no underwear. It would be awkward enough to be clad in one of his bathrobes.

_It might not be…maybe it won't be on you for long anyway, _hormones said helpfully, and she paused in the act of shoving her pants down her legs. She would be lying to herself if she'd said that situation hadn't made itself known, because it had, with blinding vividness.

She stepped out of her jeans, threw the robe around her body and tied it, before hanging up her shirt, pants, and socks to dry. After fixing her hair somewhat and placing her shoes neatly in a corner, Karura Skye took a deep breath and walked out into Zouchouten Southland's hallway in the bravest move of her life so far.

Zouchouten was staring out the window as if the rain held the answers to life's eternal mysteries, but turned to face her with startling suddenness when she entered the living room. "Skye. You're…back."

Nodding, she sat down, but he continued to stand, gazing down at her with an unfathomable expression on his face. "Why are you here?" he asked finally.

She didn't answer. She chanced a look up at him through her lashes, only to find that he was lost in his own world.

It was like a dream come to life: she'd shown up on his very _doorstep_. And now here she was, sitting on his couch wearing one of his robes (which was, of course, much too big for her). He watched a drop of water move down her throat, over her collarbone, and trickle under the edge of the bathrobe, before he tore his gaze violently away and met her eyes.

She stared at him, and they were standing on opposite sides of a chasm neither knew how to bridge. Neither of them was an engineer, but Karura grasped the laws of physics first. "I came to apologize, Zouchouten."

"Ah." He took hesitant steps towards her, foundations being laid. "That's very brave of you."

She said nothing, just bowed her head, feeling rather than seeing him drop to his knees, then the sudden touch of his hand on her chin, lifting it to make her eyes meet his.

"Look at me, Karura." God, he was finally touching her. He was actually doing it, and all his caution seemed to leave him at the feel of her skin under his fingertips.

And then it was too late to pull back, as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

Although her mouth had opened slightly in surprise, he kept the kiss chaste as his hand moved to cradle the back of her head. He kissed her for one second, two, three, four, and then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it ended as he gently pulled away.

She opened eyes she didn't remember closing to find him looking deep into them. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "That wasn't fair to you. I –" He closed his eyes and turned his head away, struggling to find the right words.

Karura was speechless. In that blinding scenario where her clothes came off, she'd had to plead with her boss and kiss him herself.

Noticing her lack of response, Zouchouten assumed the worst. He started to get up, crestfallen and embarrassed, wondering angrily why the hell he hadn't just kept his stupid lips to himself. _Now she hates you, idiot. Way to go, you – _

She stopped him, however. "No! Don't…"

Startled, he looked back at her, frozen in the act of standing up.

"Don't go," she said quietly, grabbing his shirt, pulling him back down to her level. "If you go now I don't know what I'll do." The honesty in her words was very near painful to hear, and he found himself covering her hands with his.

"Neither do I. I want to stay with you," he whispered.

His words hung in the air between them, and finally she leaned in, meeting him halfway as their mouths met in a tender, searching kiss. She deepened it, opening her mouth and coaxing his tongue inside. It didn't take much persuasion to get him to comply, and soon they had to break apart to breathe.

"I am in love with you," she told him fervently. "I think I always will be."

With a ragged groan, he slanted his mouth over hers. _Is it so easy? _the part of his mind not occupied with kissing her senseless wondered. _She just walks in and tells you this and you'll live happily ever after?_

Karura threw a long, sculpted leg around his hip, answering his mouth with equal passion. Forcing himself to release her lips, he confessed, "And I think I loved you all along." Her answering smile lit his world.

"Really? Did you?" she asked rather shakily, and he considered before replying, with total honesty, "Well, not _all _along, but I did like you at first sight."

She reached out and traced his cheekbones. "I liked you too, but you scared me a bit."

Ah yes…the curse of a formidable appearance. But she didn't seem to care now though, as she kissed him again, and again, and clung to him so hard her hands trembled.

_Bliss, _Zouchouten's mind grinned as he did some clinging of his own. _Let's never let her leave. Let's sell the bar and move to Arizona with her, and have six kids._

Before his overactive and unrealistic imagination could start picking out names, he drew back and studied her. She looked radiantly happy, even with her hair still tangled, red-rimmed eyes, and a robe that was falling open. Hey…a robe that was falling open!

Karura noted Zouchouten's unconscious, appreciative glance down, then his subsequent and vehement glance back up at her face, flushing. Okay, so the naked scenario had clearly surfaced in his imagination too.

As he kissed her rather guiltily now, she thought very, very hard. It would be smart to take it slow, to shake his hand and kiss him goodnight, and go on months' worth of dates before they decided that sleeping together was a wise and safe decision. It would be smart to lay out some boundaries, like "I'll let you get to second base after we've been together for six months."

Karura was smart, she liked being smart, she was proud of being smart…and she kicked smart's head off and let her hands wander. He wouldn't hurt her, he'd probably only do something only if she explicitly asked him too, and her bra was going to itch and be damp for hours anyway.

_That's such a stupid reason, _Sensible Karura sighed.

_Oh, be quiet. I'll think of better ones later, like I want him, and judging by that look he wants me, _Lusty Karura snapped. _I'm off the chain, so shut up and let me seduce him._

Zouchouten jerked under her roaming hands as they got steadily closer to their target. Parting his lips from hers reluctantly, he looked her in the eye and asked, "What do you want?" Deciding honesty was the best policy, he said gravely, "_I _want you, but it's completely your decision here."

She didn't hesitate at all. "I want you too. Very badly in fact." As Stern, Frigid Karura called Lusty Karura a wanton nymphomaniac, Feminist Karura jumped in with _See, our decision. It's not the '50's, we can sleep with whoever we want to, as long as it's safe. And we've got birth control._

Zouchouten beamed, a man who'd just touched an exquisite treasure and been told, "Go ahead, borrow it." He leaned in, joined their mouths slowly, then murmured against her lips, "Have you done this before?" It was a formality, he thought as he toyed with her hair, because such a stunning, wonderful woman had to have –

She shook her head. "No. Never."

His eyes went wide, in surprise and nerves and to stop himself from saying, "No way." He settled for a heartfelt "Well, you don't have to –"

She shook her head and cut him off. "Oh, I want to. I want it _all_."

_All right Zouchouten, you've got an obviously horny virgin that you love very much hanging all over you, so do not screw this up because if you do it'll ruin sex forever for her._

_Besides, Karura deserves fireworks. _He bent this head again, bypassing her lips this time and moving his mouth to the skin of her neck. _I just wish I wasn't so out of practice…_

"Wait." A brief vision of a squalling infant had suddenly and belatedly made itself known, and he forced himself to pull back. "This isn't really a good idea, I don't have any protection –"

"No, really, it's fine," she hastened to reassure him. "I'm on the strongest birth control around. Hormone regulation." She kissed him again. "Please."

Well, he wasn't about to say no to that. So he reciprocated, and let his hands wander too, and made out with his employee shamelessly. After a while, and after Karura had gotten his shirt open and that robe was gaping much more than before, it occurred to him that maybe this wasn't the place to gleefully take her virginity, no matter how enthusiastically she wanted to give it to him.

So he reluctantly stood up, pulling her with him. "The shades are still open. Not to mention the possibility of rugburn from this carpet," he whispered against her lips.

"There's the couch," she pointed out, but he shook his head. "No. I'm going to make love to you somewhere much more comfortable. Come here." He picked her up by the waist as if she weighed as little as Garuda, a startling experience indeed.

But she wrapped her legs around him, fastening her mouth to his, and somehow he managed to get them to the stairs without tripping. Unfortunately he was not so lucky on the steps themselves, as he missed one due to her hand gripping his hair and pulling his head back forcefully to give her better access to his neck.

"OW! ...DAMMIT, OW!"

The first pained exclamation had been in response to the hair-pulling, and the second for the collision of his elbow against the wall as he stumbled.

"Zouchouten!" Karura shrieked as he almost dropped her. "Are you okay?"

"I'll live," he groaned miserably, "but maybe you should _let go of my hair?_"

"Oh! Sorry." She obeyed immediately. "Maybe I should walk, too."

"Yes. Yes, you really should do that before we break our necks."

She scrambled down, and he rubbed his elbow and followed, walking into his upstairs hallway with a hand on the small of her back in a proprietary gesture. "Last door on the left," he murmured as she hesitated.

He pushed it open, and she briefly studied his room before he picked her up again, this time bridal-style. It was tidy, with a huge bookshelf, and she couldn't see any porn or dirty underwear tossed about. She got the distinct feeling that he didn't make a habit of bringing women home. If he did, she was sure, he wouldn't have left "My Life As A Baker: Complete With Recipes" by Betty Crocker just lying on his nightstand where anyone might see it.

When he laid her on the bed, she pulled him with her. Clothing was shed quickly, until all that remained were her bra and panties and his boxers. He studied her as she did the same to him, both of them wondering how to politely ask for removal of the rest of the other's clothes. Karura solved part of that problem by unhooking her bra, and the minute that garment was shrugged off, Zouchouten gently cupped her breasts, rounding them into his hands as she arched in pleasure.

"Oh…please…"

If he was a bit surprised by her wanton moan, he didn't show it; he bent his head to gently lave her skin with his tongue. And she urged him on, pressing his head closer and arching into his mouth, panting and with Lusty Karura running amok.

"Beautiful," he murmured against her skin. "Truly."

Her hands went to his waistband, and he stopped what he was doing to look her in the eye. If she went any further, all doubts would be gone. She leaned in, engaging him in a sensual, tongued kiss, gently pushing his boxers a few inches down. He helped her get them fully off, and her panties followed suit a moment later.

And then she was falling back, pulling him with her, spreading her legs and clutching him to her…and she let him in.

He entered her slowly, as gently as he could, letting her adjust to his considerable size and fighting to hold himself back. She was slightly surprised that it didn't hurt even more than it did, but she was so eager for him, and he'd gone so gently, that the pain wasn't overwhelming.

"Zouchouten," she gasped, "Ahh…"

"Yes," he growled. "You feel even better than I imagined."

As she pondered all possible implications of that last sentence, he settled himself onto her, bracing his weight on his forearms. "I'll go slow," he informed her breathlessly. "Tell me if it hurts and I'll stop, okay?"

"Yes…just…just do it," she managed. "I'll tell you if it hurts."

_And he'll stop immediately, _she realized, _he'll stop and feel horrible and try to make it up to me while ignoring his own wants…because he loves me that much. _It was a humbling epiphany, and she felt honored by it. "I love you too," she told him fervently.

He met her lips with his. "I know."

For the first few minutes it was, while not too painful anymore, uncomfortable for her, no matter how slowly he moved. A tad disappointed that sex wasn't the instant ecstasy fiction would have you believe it was, Karura lay back and moved slightly with Zouchouten and nevertheless smiled, because _he _obviously enjoyed it, and that was good. She liked making him happy.

And then it got better. Picking up on the fact that she wasn't having as much fun as he was, he asked her, "What have you done to yourself? What do you like?"

Some females might have been embarrassed at such straightforward questions asked of them, but Karura thought that was silly. She was naked and he was inside her, so there was nothing to be ashamed of, she figured.

So she thought for a second. What _did _she like?

"Well, my breasts are pretty sensitive…"

"Ah-ha. Let's see if I can't…" He shifted position, mouth finding her mammary skin. Paying grand attention to her left breast, he lifted one hand and found the other nipple.

A burst of actual enjoyment exploded in her brain at that. _Hey…that feels good! It even feels good in other places, somehow._

"Keep doing that," she hissed, starting to move against him a bit harder. "Just like that."

And he did, and it got even better, and after a while Karura clutched Zouchouten's shoulders and whispered, "Will you go faster? I want you to go faster."

"All right then."

And, while it still hurt a tiny bit, she was rapidly realizing that it felt _nice. _After all, thousands of years had prepared the human body for such an act, and evolution hadn't given only the males erogenous zones. And soon, with both lower areas stimulated as she ground against him, she was starting to think that maybe she didn't need the, well, _breast _stimulation as badly.

He still seemed to think she did, though, and she wasn't about to tell him otherwise. And then he let them both go, placed his mouth right below the top of her cleavage, and sucked some of the skin into his mouth.

_That _made her shriek in enjoyment. It had almost hurt, but damn…it had felt very, very good too. He soothed her reddened skin with his tongue, and she gasped and pressed his head down.

By now pain had fled, pursued relentlessly by pleasure, and been locked in a box and sent screaming off a cliff as pleasure reigned supreme. Karura yelled and writhed and felt things she never had before; she locked her legs around him, she locked her arms around him, and she set her teeth on the muscle between Zouchouten's neck and collarbone, because she was going to go insane and wake up the entire block if she didn't.

He was quite pleased by this. _All __right__, _his ego cheered, _she's going crazy! Rock __on__, sex god!_

_Maybe she'd enjoy it if I…_

"Do you like that, me hard inside you?" he growled into her ear. "_I _like it."

Her teeth broke his skin at this, but he didn't even register it. His entire concentration was focused on reaching release and taking her with him.

"I _love _being inside you, Karura…"

"Oh!" she gasped, clinging to him, caught up in the tempest of passion. All of her normal thought processes had evaporated, leaving a desperate imposter who could only move frantically against him and pant his name as she neared her peak.

"Zouchouten…"

"Yes," he groaned, moving faster himself.

"Zouchouten, Zouchouten…"

He met her eyes, gasping.

"Zouchouten…Zouchouten…Zouchouten –"

Her nails opened red lines on his skin, but again, he didn't notice as he went even faster, becoming less controlled.

"Zouchouten…Zouchou…Zou…Zou…"

Oh God, she was _almost there – _

He pounded into her, and that was _it. _

"ZOUCHOUTEN!" she screamed, convulsing in climax, as everything around her exploded in her pleasure.

His answering shout of "_Karura!_"signaling his own release, he dropped his head and kissed her open mouth, moving his hands to the sides of her face as she did the same to him. They clung to each other as they finished, until finally he released her, staring at her for one second, two – and then collapsed, knocking what breath she had managed to regain right out of her.

"I don't think I can move," he said faintly, as Karura stared at the ceiling and wondered how it could still be there, as the world had exploded and all.

_Maybe a whole new world just came into being, _she decided after five minutes. _Corny, but there it is._

"Thank you," she told him finally, then frowned when there was no answer but deep breathing. She turned her head with a supreme effort of will and stared.

He was asleep. She smiled slightly, rolled him off of her, and reached over him to turn out the light, then lay back down and snuggled into his side, drawing the sheet up.

In a dark room in a nondescript office building, Shara turned away from the surveillance monitor and to Smythe. "Her car's been parked outside his house for over an hour, and the light just went out in the window. She's not leaving tonight." She held out her hand expectantly. "Pay up."

He grumbled something about female intuition giving her an unfair advantage, but handed over a hundred dollars as Just Hopkins polished a pocketknife and said happily, "Now things are going to get _very _interesting indeed."

(AN: Oh _my _I think this story earned its "M" rating in this chapter, don't you? Well, I mean, there _was_ that flashback of Yasha's earlier and his little shower escapade, and Karura's dream and little bed escapade, but this scene was much more involved. I won't be taking the story to any explicit new heights and actually will be toning it down, but things are going to stay pretty naughty.

The Betty Crocker (who of course is not a real person) book on Zouchouten's nightstand is a nod to my brother, even though I hope he never reads this extended version of this chapter! He and I have a running joke that, for all the big guy's intimidating appearance and manly manner, he might enjoy the peaceful and stereotypically "feminine" pastime of baking.

There will actually be a couple other references to Homemaker Zouchouten in this fic (and before you ask: no, I don't put him in a flowered apron, singing cheerful songs at the top of his lungs while making pink frosted cupcakes).

Sorry to those of you who are reading this story for Kujaku. He _will_ show up in the next chapter, which will have more than just Karura and Zouchouten rolling around. And we'll see Koumokuten be a bastard as well (like we need more of that). Plus we'll meet Mrs. Feeny, Zouchouten's biddy neighbor.

This chapter signals a more serious turn of the story. Don't get me wrong, there's still a number of hopefully humorous bits, but as Just says, "Now things are going to get very interesting indeed." After all… Taishakuten's still out there, Koumokuten's still a double agent, and Bishamonten and his bishounen self are still armed and dangerous.)


	15. Screw The Rules

Karura woke up with birds singing right outside the window. That was odd, because her apartment was on the sixth floor and there were no trees near it –

Opening her eyes, she was greeted with an unfamiliar wall. She blinked at it, her memory returning slowly as her mouth opened in pleased disbelief. She glanced down. Yes, she was indeed naked, and she could feel the warm weight behind her breathing.

She took in a breath and let it out in a measured exhalation. _Look behind you. He's there. It wasn't a dream. See? This isn't your room, plus you have a hickey between your breasts, _her mind added smugly. _Dreams don't do that._

Taking one more deep breath, she turned around slowly, then sighed in relief.

Zouchouten seemed younger in sleep, the lines by his mouth smoothed and his expression relaxed. She watched him for a few moments, studying her – her what, her lover? Her boyfriend? Her boss that she'd slept with after nearly getting fired by? She decided to go with "lover", as it had an old-fashioned ring to it that brought to mind long walks on beaches and poetic confessions on bended knee.

It certainly beat "boss that she'd slept with after nearly getting fired by".

An insidious, dark little thought crept into her mind then: was this just sex to Zouchouten? Sure, she'd enjoyed it, but had he just figured "What the hell, she's horny and I'm horny so let's get crazy"?

No, Sensible Karura said firmly, he hadn't. The things he'd said, the way he'd looked at her…he couldn't have been lying, she knew him too well for that. And he could have had her without telling her he loved her, she realized with some shame. As much as she'd hoped to deny it, if he'd said he only wanted her body there was a very good chance she would have replied, "How do you want it?"

Because she was desperately wrapped up in him, and she knew that made her weak, and…and she was weak _with_ him, and that somehow made it okay.

_You can touch him. He didn't complain earlier. _She flushed. More like urged her on and did some touching of his own. So she reached out a hand to gently trace his cheek, and he stirred at the contact, nuzzling his face into her palm with a sleepy "Hmm?" sound.

"Cute," she smiled. "Zouchouten Southland, you are so cute right now."

"Huh?" Golden eyes opened in confusion, then found her face. She froze, pinned by his gaze.

"Karura. Hello." He just looked at her, smiling, and she found herself waiting for the other shoe to drop. Wasn't there some convention that the morning after was invariably a little awkward?

He sat up, the sheet falling down and revealing his bare chest. "Do you want breakfast? I have toast, and, um…bran flakes." He sighed, stretching his arms. "I knew I should have gone grocery shopping."

She blinked, somewhat confused. Was he really supposed to be talking about toast and stretching like they'd woken up together for years? Shouldn't they be having some sort of discussion about how their lives were changed forever while avoiding each other's gazes?

He threw the sheet off and stood up. "Do you want a robe? Although," he gave her an unabashed, appreciative look, "I think you look great naked."

"Uh, thanks. So do you."

He chuckled then. "Come here. I'll make coffee." He proffered a hand, and she took it unquestioningly. He pulled her up, and she'd just put her feet on the floor when her legs trembled and gave out.

"Whoa!" She sat back down on the bed, and winced as a distinct soreness made itself known. He studied her with a worried expression on his face. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

She considered this for a moment. "No. It's just…well, I'm probably a little bruised, but I should be okay."

He smiled, obviously taking some male pride in the fact that he'd screwed her into the mattress so hard she couldn't walk. It was kind of annoying, she thought as she shot him a glare.

"Sorry," he apologized, and he truly meant it. "I got carried away."

Karura thought for a few seconds, then made a decision. "Well, it's probably like any other form of exercise: do it enough and it won't hurt." She sprawled back on the bed. "I'm sure you'll be really gentle this time."

His gaze turned nearly bronze as his pupils dilated in excitement at this. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "I'm well aware that I probably _should _go apply some sort of soothing cream and whine about it, but I really, really want you," she told him honestly.

He leaned back over her. "Damn, you're something. I never want to let you out of my sight again, Karura."

_Screw the rules,_ she thought contentedly as she pulled him down, _I have Zouchouten._

As Karura engaged in more adult activities with Zouchouten, Koumokuten frowned at his computer screen. Huh. Searching "K. Valentine" had given him nothing relevant. He glared at the card he'd stolen off Hanranya.

He hadn't noticed the guy around, whatever he might look like, but apparently Valentine was asking general questions about the bar and its personnel and "Oh, that Mr. Oeste… what's he like?"

_Not as dumb as you think, Vallie. I'll be watching extra hard for tails now._

Koumokuten lit a cigarette and thought, smoke wreathing around him rather demonically. Should he tell Taishakuten about this? Maybe the fucker really was from Parvati, his asset-draining ex-girlfriend who'd insisted on giving birth to Tamara.

Well, that was a no-brainer. If Valentine was instead after Koumokuten's criminal side, enough poking around might lead him to Taishakuten. And if Taishakuten found out that Koumokuten had passed it off as inconsequential…

He put an unconscious hand around his throat. Yeah, he'd be telling his boss, just in case. He'd once seen Taishakuten casually murder a woman he had just slept with, because she'd been stupid enough to ask for a favor. The crime lord was a great believer in earning one's rewards, be they good or bad.

And Koumokuten really, _really _didn't want to earn a negative consequence. That snotty Bishamonten was already portraying him as having lost his edge, he was sure.

So he'd tell Taishakuten. And then what?

Things were getting more serious for Skye. Things were getting more serious for everybody, because if any of his employees said the wrong thing this Valentine guy might screw it all up. And Taishakuten would just smile and say, "Well, kill them then. No sense in letting them talk."

Hell, Taishakuten would order Koumokuten to kill his best friend, even.

He paused in the act of inhaling smoke. Z…he liked Z an awful lot, but, well, Zouchouten couldn't kill him. Well, he physically could, but there was no way he'd do it. The point was that Koumokuten, while he'd be sad if his buddy had to die, would kill him if he needed to.

Because, damn it all, he liked being alive. And he'd had no trouble killing anyone and everyone twenty years ago.

At the same time, he'd left of his own volition back then. He'd told Taishakuten, as politely as he could and shaking in fear, "Sir, I'd like permission to just leave." He had not been motivated so much by thoughts of pity for his victims, or regret for ending their lives, as not wanting to die himself.

Taishakuten, for what reason Koumokuten had no idea, had let him leave with a mere "If I need you I'll find you, Oeste." Koumokuten had moved to Tenkai City, gotten in a bar fight on vacation, and built his own (awesome) bar with the money from his marks.

Zouchouten had been told, and he'd naively believed it, that Koumokuten had inherited the cash. He'd tried very hard to put his criminal past behind him: while he _had_ told Zouchouten he was a gang member in high school he'd never mentioned the hitman bit, he never went anywhere near Texas, and he'd grudgingly paid child support.

But it had been extremely difficult, pretending that he was a good person. For example, he had been quite upset that he couldn't just shoot Parvati's lawyer when he showed up at his door. He'd _liked _being a hitman. He'd missed it.

And now he was one again. Sure, he hadn't had to kill anyone yet, but he was pretty sure he would, by the end. And even though he'd run from it for years, he was a _good _hired gun. He had little time for remorse, and he'd kept in practice with his multiple firearms. He hadn't brawled for a while but he'd kept in shape.

And actually, Taishakuten had let him spar a couple other minions. He'd won, ha. And maybe, as he got more into practice, he could "pretend"-fight Bishamonten.

Koumokuten grinned. He'd do what he had to do, and maybe kicking Bish in the teeth could be his reward.

Kujaku strolled into his office as Koumokuten fantasized about beating up Bishamonten. "Howdy howdy, Shara! Now, tell me we've got something on Oeste by this point."

Shara shook her head. "No Ku. All we've got is that the man drives too fast, drinks too much, smokes like a chimney, and swears like a sailor."

He pouted. "That's it?"

"That's it. We can't follow him all the time, though, and I think he may be on to us."

He put down his thermos of coffee and muttered, "And we still have nothing on Taishakuten's base either. Shara, all we have is that Oeste's a son of a bitch who _used_ to work for King, and that Karura Skye's playing avenger, and –"

He broke off, because Shara was grinning. "What? What's that smile for?"

"Ku," Shara pointed to the monitor, "does that look like Skye's apartment parking lot to you?"

Kujaku peered at the image of a house with an apple tree in the front yard. "No. Is she visiting family?"

Shara shook her head, positively beaming now. "Far from it. I ran the address, and that house belongs," she paused meaningfully, "to a boss of hers."

Kujaku blanched at this information. "Oh my God, she's sleeping with Oeste and he knows I'm asking about him now! Oh shit, we have to –"

"Ew, not _Oeste, _you know that's not his house," Shara snapped, appalled and with horrible visions arising in her imagination. "It's the one you codenamed –" she laughed, "– Queen Victoria."

Kujaku stopped wondering how he could explain his mistake to Twelve, and started to smile instead. "Really."

Shara nodded, looking smug. "Really. She's been there since late last night. This could potentially change quite a bit."

"Yes it could," he murmured, studying the house. "If Skye sweet-talks Southland, maybe I can use 'em both."

"It _is _possible this is a one-night-stand, Ku," she pointed out. "From what I saw last night she was pretty upset at the bar, and he slammed out of there like the devil was after him. Maybe they'll decide it was stupid and end up hating each other."

Kujaku shrugged nonchalantly, picking his coffee back up. "Maybe, maybe not. If that happens, we use Skye's newfound anger at Southland to make her spill anything that's going on in that bar." He felt a little bad suggesting this, and hastened to add, "But I'm hoping that won't be the case, Shara. I like her."

Shara gave him another smile. "Yes, me too, from what I've seen. Let's just hope it all turns out all right."

Kujaku smiled back. "Let's hope." _Skye, you lucky, lucky dog…I wish Yasha would let me "sleep over" at __his__ house._

The thought hit Karura suddenly, as she lay catching her breath and wondering if her body could take another round: _Garuda…I didn't feed Garuda! _"Oh no!"

"Hmm?"

"I just remembered something I have to do. Garuda needs breakfast, and fresh water. He's probably wondering where I am and getting worried."

She expected Zouchouten to argue, but instead he nodded seriously. "I'd hate for him to get hungry and upset," he told her truthfully.

She just looked at him, smiling. _Loving, sexy, and cares about my bird: I think I may be the luckiest woman on the planet._

He opened his arms and let her sit up, and she ran a hand through sweat-damp hair. "You can use my shower," he offered. "It's down the hall, I can –"

"Oh, no thank you," she replied politely as she got up, able to walk now, albeit rather slowly and shakily. "Garuda's probably having a fit already. I'm hardly ever gone overnight."

"Okay," he agreed, getting up himself and going for a robe. "But you might want to eat at least _something_."

"Well, maybe I'll have some toast after all," Karura decided generously. It would be rude, she figured, to just sleep with him and run off. She was well aware that last night and this morning would be repeated, multiple times probably, but she was also big on propriety.

Zouchouten grinned at her and went down to the kitchen, and she put on her own robe and ran into the downstairs bathroom, carrying her underwear. Her other clothes were dry and she put them on quickly, despite kind of liking the look in his eyes when she walked around in a terrycloth thing that gapped at the neck and chest.

Decently attired, she walked into his kitchen, and he passed her some freshly buttered toast. "There's jam if you want it. Blackberry or redcurrant, take your pick."

"This is fine, thanks," she grinned, sitting down across from him. Despite all her previous physical exertion, she wasn't all that hungry. Still, she knew breakfast was important and that she needed to eat.

So she ate toast, and he ate toast, and they smiled at each other as the coffee brewed. "Thank you, Zouchouten," she told him seriously, as he hadn't been awake to hear it last night.

He brushed it off. "Oh, it's no trouble, I actually feel kind of bad that I don't have anything except –"

"Thank you for breakfast too, but that's not what I meant."

He appraised her; she had a distinct after-sex glow. _I can please Karura! _male-mind bragged. _She liked it and suggested we do it again, and she liked it then too! _His ego started to throw its chest out and swagger before he made it sit down and eat its damn breakfast.

"No, thank _you, _Karura. You're wonderful." He passed her more toast. "You're just… fantastic. Everything about you is stunning."

She blushed a bit at this. She knew she was attractive, and she knew she was a strong person, but to hear him say it in that wonderful, pleased bass was better than thinking it to herself to keep her spirits up. It was like when Garuda said a new word and nuzzled her, and when her mother had beamed proudly, and when her father had hugged her while Karyou said "You're awesome!", all rolled into one.

"Well, I think you're stunning too. Just not," she laughed, "in a pretty woman way."

"Well let's hope not," he laughed back, getting up to pour the coffee. "How do you like your coffee? I think I have cream somewhere –"

She glanced up at the clock and told him, rather reluctantly, "I think I have to pass. I really do need to go."

He immediately set the pot down and turned to face her. "Oh. Okay." He too looked up at the clock, and his mouth twisted in unhappy surprise. "Yeah, you should…it's after eleven."

And so Karura stood up, waiting for Zouchouten to show her the door, because she couldn't be _too _rude and just walk out on him. Abandoning his life-giving caffeine, he took her hand and led her to his front door.

He let her go, looking like he'd rather chain himself to her so they could never be apart again, and swung the door open. "Goodbye, Karura."

She took a few steps, then turned, pulled him forward, embraced him, and gave him a heartfelt kiss. "Goodbye, Zouchouten."

"I love you, you know." He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, and she found it easy to reply with, "I love you too."

"I'll see you at work." For the first time a note of embarrassment had entered his voice.

Karura bit her lip almost nervously. "Yes, um, about that…listen, I think we shouldn't tell anybody."

He nodded. "That's probably wise. It's never a good idea to take your affairs of the heart to work with you."

Oh good, he understood the danger of a boss/underling love affair. "Exactly, I mean, if they knew, they'd think you were favoring me." Scowling Koumokuten and jealous Vahyu had popped into her head, as Aguni pointed and grinned knowingly.

"Oh, but I _do_ favor you, Karura," Zouchouten told her, smile broadening. "Nobody else in that building lets me have mad animal sex with them," he teased.

"No, no." She sighed, exasperated. "I mean no preferential treatment."

"Yes, I understand. But if I give you a raise because you've earned it, you're going to accept it and not think I gave it to you because you slept with me." He gave her a wolfish grin. "Very enthusiastically, I might add, and it was mutually enjoyable, judging by your happy cries."

She flushed slightly but nodded. "All right, and _you _are going to stop caressing my rear right now or I'll never get home."

She wriggled out of his grasp, gave him one last peck on the lips, and sauntered down his sidewalk, whistling "Sexual Healing". She unlocked her car, blew him an air kiss, and drove off as he watched her with a no-doubt sappy expression on his face.

"Zouchouten Southland, I don't mind telling you that I am _extremely_ disappointed in your moral character." The voice of a very old woman reached his ears then, and he turned to the left resignedly.

Mrs. Feeny (the harridan from next door) was standing on her front steps with Mr. Wiggles, her mentally disturbed Yorkshire terrier, in her arms and glaring at her neighbor like he'd just scrawled a pentagram on the altar of a church. In Billy Graham's blood.

"And good morning to you too, Ethel." He forced a polite smile to his face. "Lovely day, huh?"

"You know, you used to be such an _upstanding_ young man –"

_I haven't heard that one for years – _

"– despite that horrible scooter thing –"

" '82 Sturgis Harley, Mrs. Feeny –"

"– and your questionable taste in friends and professions, never bringing women home and shoveling my sidewalks in the winter, but you should be _ashamed_ of yourself!" Mr. Wiggles yapped at Zouchouten irritably, matching his owner's tone to perfection.

"Mrs. Feeny," Zouchouten rumbled in ominous imitation of far-off cannon fire, "I am going back inside now, and when I come out and go to work, I hope you will have found something better to do with your time than spy on people."

He slammed his front door and sighed, realizing that she would probably spend every waking moment watching him from behind her lace curtains now, telling the rest of the neighborhood that he was some sort of deviant.

He stalked into his bathroom, took a shower, toweled his hair off, and smiled like a moron when he saw the love bite between his neck and collarbone in the mirror.

The next month passed in a whirl of enjoyable nights and days full of keeping things normal and not making anyone suspicious at the Four Gods. Despite the downright _terrible_ temptation to give everyone else busywork, invite Karura into the storage room, and lock the door, Zouchouten was the happiest anyone had ever seen him.

Koumokuten gave him a weird look one day. "Z, are you hopped up on Prozac or something? You're starting to scare me," he admitted warily.

"No. I'm just glad to be here. We're making a huge profit this month, Koumokuten," Zouchouten evaded, and the other man shook his head, decided to check the office for speed at a later date, and turned his attention to how he was going to make Vahyu stop hitting on drunken truckers as he kicked them out the door.

Karura too was happy: she sang in her shower and even smiled at Koumokuten. He, fortunately, didn't put two and two together, and just thought she might be finally appreciating him. He was rather pleased to see that she had backed off the interviews with criminal contacts, because none of them came around anymore.

_See Bish…I knew I'd make her pull back. Now nobody has to die._

He was both relieved and upset about that. He liked being back in the game, damn it, and really had been looking forward to messing up Bishamonten's perfect smile someday. Still, he thought, maybe it was just a lull. Maybe Skye had again hit a wall for a bit, and soon she'd be back to digging around.

But no, Karura had made the difficult but mature decision that she would no longer pursue such questions at the Four Gods. After all, Kujaku was looking for Taishakuten as well, and he was obviously some sort of spook. He'd have better luck anyway. She'd mentioned this to Zouchouten, who had nodded and muttered, "I still think Ku's a weirdo," but let it be.

It was hard, just letting things go, but…she turned to look at Zouchouten, who had just slapped a beaming Varuna on the back for a job well done, if something happened to him or anyone here she would never forgive herself. Ever.

Six days later, Jamal Corteza stared up at the elegant murderer in front of him. He was cuffed like a dog, kneeling in a cold, dark alley. His guards were dead, cut down expertly. His car was too far away and held now by his enemies, the driver having been the first to go.

Bishamonten placed a casual foot on his victim's groin and pressed forward. "Corteza, your pathetic drug running has been eating into Taishakuten's profits. Perhaps you might have listened when you were told to back off."

"Look, I didn't know, I just –"

Bishamonten nodded to two of his associates, and one of them passed him his Glock. Placing it in the middle of Corteza's forehead, he was about to pull the trigger when Corteza blurted, "Someone's looking for King to kill him!"

Bishamonten paused. "An awful lot of people want to bring my boss down. What makes this one so special?"

"She's crazy. She'll do it or die trying," Corteza rushed on, carefully cultivated street slang forgotten in the face of death. "Skye. Her name's Karura Skye."

Bishamonten withdrew his gun. "I see. Tell me about her, Corteza. It may save your life."

Seizing on this slim chance, the gangster spilled his guts. "She knows he had her sister killed. She's found that out herself. She's been askin' questions about King, and she won't stop, she's nuts, she wants him dead, she –"

"And who has she been talking to?" Bishamonten murmured. "Do not lie to me, 'J-Dawg'."

"Low-level street punks," Corteza stuttered, "anybody she can, she –"

"I told you not to _lie._"Bishamonten smacked the other man across the face. "Did she talk to you? Be honest now, Jamal."

"Yes," the bigger man admitted, and Bishamonten patted his cheek condescendingly. "Good _boy. _Now…what did you tell her?"

"All I told her was that he probably knew she knew, and that he wouldn't care, and that he was dangerous. And that he was in this city," Corteza managed, praying his captor would spare him for useful information.

Bishamonten's brows twitched lower at this, but he gave no other indication of anger. "I see. Is that all? Did you give her specifics?"

"No. No! I swear all I said was that he was here. I swear to _God _that was it. I left after that."

The killer in power smiled at the killer in trouble then. "Then you won't mind if I make sure you never tell her anything else." Bishamonten backhanded the other man with his gun, then turned away. "Thank you for your help, Mr. Corteza."

As he walked off, he said, not even bothering to say it over his shoulder, "Get rid of him."

Two shots rang into the night.

Bishamonten entered the dark living room of Taishakuten's mansion, twenty minutes later. He loosened his tie and was just wondering of Shashi was still up when the lights came on.

He didn't jump, as he'd been expecting something along these lines. He turned his head. Taishakuten was sprawled out on his couch, his own tie off, his shirt open, and barefoot. He nodded at his right-hand man. "You're back."

"Yes. Sir, we have a potential problem."

"Oh, do we now." Taishakuten stretched languidly. "Surely you took care of that idiot with the grammar of a three-year-old?"

Bishamonten nodded casually. "Well of course I did, Taishakuten. It's what he told me that could be dangerous."

"Oh, his babblings were so valuable that people would kill for them, hmm?" Taishakuten lifted an elegant eyebrow. "Is that it? Poor choice of words and sentence structure, Bishamonten."

The man in question sighed. "You _know _what I mean. He said Karura Skye knows you're here in Tenkai City."

Taishakuten extended a hand and admired his manicured nails. "Is that so? Well. Tell Koumokuten another hint is needed." He stood up and walked towards his subordinate. "Corteza wasn't lying to taunt you?"

"Oh, no," Bishamonten assured him, smirking all the while. "He was pulling out all the stops, as if information would save him. Before I broke his jaw with my Glock, he said she'd told him she would kill you."

"Hmm. Intriguing woman. Stupid, but intriguing." The mob boss came closer. "Is Kisshouten aware of this?"

The redhead considered. "I don't think she is. I once mentioned Skye's name and she became sad, but she seems unaware of the bitch's actions now."

Taishakuten laughed as if they were discussing the antics of a pet. "Poor little Kisshouten… you control her completely, don't you?"

"Yes I do," Bishamonten purred. "I have her in the palm of my hand. She's _mine._"

"Yes…you do enjoy your dominion over her, don't you, my dear Bishamonten?"

Kisshouten's husband nodded wordlessly as Taishakuten studied him, then reached an elegant, deadly hand out and cupped his jaw, smirking like a demon. Bishamonten let him; this certainly wasn't the first time something like this had happened. And Taishakuten _was _quite beautiful, in a handsomely psychotic way.

The crime lord, Bishamonten was certain, would screw absolutely anyone if it would get him his way or if he could, by doing so, make them see who was in charge, or better yet suffer. He was a sadist, after all.

And in that regrettable mental state, boss and minion were rather similar indeed.

"Bishamonten, I was about to go find my wife. Instead," Taishakuten laughed, "I think I'll use you." He pushed his subordinate down, and that was that.

Down at the Four Gods a couple hours later, Zouchouten shook his head at Koumokuten's ringtone: Seether's "Fuck It". "Koumokuten, that is just offensive. Get a new ringtone, please."

Koumokuten flipped his friend off. "It's an awesome song, shut up." He opened his phone. "Yeah, who's this?"

Shaking his head, Zouchouten turned away, as Koumokuten barked, "Rudra? What, no last name? Who the hell are you?" into his cell.

As Zouchouten walked over to Varuna, who was wiping down the bar, Koumokuten's face stilled. "…Oh. You work for… yeah. Okay. …Um, look, can I call you back in five minutes? This isn't a good time."

"Sure, Oeste. I'll wait for your call eagerly," one of Taishakuten's men replied. "Bye."

"Fucker," Koumokuten muttered. "Talk down to _me_, huh Rudy?"

He turned his phone off. _I'll blow up your house, bastard, see if I don't. I've still got a few supplies from twenty years ago, and they don't expire. _He grinned evilly.

A born pyromaniac and expert gunman, Koumokuten had managed to control his destructive tendencies by having frequent, huge bonfires and going down to the shooting range so much that all the other regulars knew him by name. Still, it hadn't been the same, and while he knew that his life had taken a much more dangerous turn as of late, it was actually almost a relief.

Yes, he decided, that adrenaline rush he used to live for was coming back, and he'd missed it terribly. Hassling people hadn't really done it.

Koumokuten was, as a therapist might say, done denying his true nature. He himself saw it as no longer having to shake life's hand when it dealt him a bad card, instead of grabbing it by the throat and throttling it 'til it backed down.

He walked over to Zouchouten. "Z, I gotta split. Seeya tomorrow."

"No, Koumokuten, we have to finish closing up. Besides, the floor crew –"

"Z, I'm leaving. _You _deal with the furniture." Singing "Disco Inferno" to be even more annoying, Koumokuten strutted out the door as Zouchouten made a noise like an angry bulldog.

"Zou, if _he _gets to go, so do I," Vahyu proclaimed imperiously, Varuna jumping in with "Me too!" and various other employees enthusiastically agreeing.

Zouchouten stared. It was a mutiny. One of the bouncers was already pulling on his leather jacket, which was stupid because it was 85 degrees outside. _Why me…?_

Before he had to yell and make everybody hate him as a brutal taskmaster, he tried a diplomatic tactic. "I'll make you all a deal: you finish the usual closeup, and _I'll _deal with the furniture. One of you," he stressed firmly, "will have to stay behind and help me, but the rest of you can leave then. Okay?"

There was an immediate chorus of agreement and fingerpointing, until Karura piped up with "I can stay" in a martyred air.

Vahyu grinned. "Yay! Thanks, Skye." He started to approach her for a hug, but a pointed look made him decide he'd like to keep his arms. Karura was famous for hating unnecessary physical contact.

So the Four Gods was closed up in record time, everybody else practically ran out the door, and Zouchouten and Karura were left alone in the bar, for the first time since the events of more than a month ago.

They just stood there for a minute, her wondering if the security footage for this room could be "accidentally" erased for today, and him wondering how long it would take to move everything and for the floor crew to arrive.

Each decided that it would not be a good idea to get naked on the stage, sighing regretfully and picking up a table together.

They worked in silence, save for the occasional "Watch out" and "Hold on, I have to adjust my grip." Finally the tables were all moved, and the chairs could be put up.

On the sound system, Shakira was singing about her territory being under her man's clothes. Zouchouten glanced up, placed the last stool on the bar, and turned to look at Karura, reaching out a hand.

"Dance with me?"

And she did.

(AN: Just in case you were wondering, dancing was all Karura and Zouchouten did in the bar; they're just lucky Koumokuten didn't check the recording. Lucky in a couple of ways, because after all, our buddy Koumie is Taishakuten's attack dog. And as it is, they're living on borrowed time.

We'll actually see Rudra briefly in a couple future scenes. Parvati is another cameo: although she was never given a name (I just picked a random Indian one), she was General Koumokuten's wife and Tamara's mother. I figured that AU Koumokuten is such a slimeball he wouldn't have married her even if she did get pregnant.

Taishakuten making Bishamonten his bitch is obviously not canon. Although, as canon Taishakuten is (at least) bisexual and Bishamonten is fanatically loyal, it could have happened. Obviously they don't love each other, and it's completely a power thing here. Tai did it to show his minion who was boss; he's a monster even with sex. Bish is just the same, with what he does to poor Kisshouten.

But Bishamonten is a very dedicated monster, after all. He'd do whatever Taishakuten wanted without complaint, and he might even enjoy it. He's ruthless and cruel, but I must admit I find him pretty neat as well. Being all coolly arrogant as he's slaughtering anyone who gets in his way…nope, you don't mess with Bishamonten without serious consequence.

Oh, and "Screw the rules, I have Zouchouten" is a reference to Yugioh the Abridged Series, where Seto Kaiba yells "Screw the rules, I have money!")


	16. Don't Be Sorry

The day after dancing in the bar, Karura was sitting in the storage room, taking a break and waiting for Kendappa. She was of course sitting on her chair rather uncomfortably and planned to wash her hands very thoroughly when she left; this was, after all, Shangri-la to Koumokuten and probably Aguni and who knew who else.

Still, Kendappa had said, "Let's go in the storage room!" and she'd agreed. Zouchouten was in the office, Koumokuten was out in the bar proper, and various other people were all around, so it was really the only place to be alone. Even the loading bay was occupied right now.

She had left the door half open, though, so nobody would get the wrong idea.

Kendappa peered around the door then. "Well hi there! Guess who's finished recording her new album!"

"That's wonderful, Kendappa. What's it called?"

The musician took a seat herself, frowning slightly. "Actually, it doesn't have a name yet. We're almost done mixing it, but we need a name." She grinned suddenly, nomenclature problems gone. "But every single song is about my Souma in some way."

Karura leaned back in her chair, smiling herself. "That's so nice, Kendappa. Does she know that?"

Said woman nodded happily. "Yep. She thought it was nice too. She said she's thinking of naming a pattern after me." Rock albums and martial arts patterns: the perfect gifts from Kendappa and Souma, Karura decided.

"Oh, but actually," Kendappa remembered, "there's one song that's a remix that isn't about Souma. It's my most popular one, so we thought we'd put it on this album too as a bonus track. It's the one about," she smiled broadly, "men who don't get it when you tell them not to hit on you, and how they should go to hell."

"Oh, 'Go Fuck Yourself, Perv'," Karura managed, trying not to laugh. "You know, Zouchouten uses that as his ringtone for Koumokuten. He loves that song."

Kendappa grinned proudly. "Sweet."

"Yes," Karura murmured, a goofy smile on her own face, "yes…sweet..."

Too busy thinking of her man being sweet to her, Karura didn't notice Kendappa noticing the goofy smile. The musician thought this was very interesting, and that further inquiries might uncover something she'd been rather hoping for.

"So what _else _does he love?" she asked innocently.

The trap was closing around her, but Karura was as oblivious as a blind raccoon gamboling over to a feast laid out just for her. "He loves music, and he loves his motorcycle, and he loves to read, and he really loves when I ask him to kiss –"

She stopped then, turning pink. The trap had sprung, and caught a wild Karura.

The huntress grinned at her. "Yeah? Do tell. What does he kiss?"

"Uh –"

"You totally slept with him, didn't you?" Kendappa guessed.

Karura's uncanny impression of a deer in headlights told Kendappa all she needed to know, and she grinned once more. "Finally! All that sexual tension was giving me a headache. Was he good?"

"Kendappa!"

"Oh, c'mon." Kendappa waved a hand in annoyance. "I may be gay, but that doesn't mean I'm not curious," she informed her friend unabashedly.

Despite her embarrassment, Karura smiled. "What do you think?"

"Ha! I knew it. Has he gone down on you yet?"

"_Kendappa!_"

The musician just smirked. "Hey, if he didn't, you're missing out. Souma does this great thing with her tongue that – Karura?"

The white-haired woman barely registered her friend's words, as she was too busy remembering a _most_ enjoyable evening. Kendappa waved a hand in her face to get her attention. "You should pay him back. Guys love that. In his office! 'Cause office sex is the best."

"I am _not _doing that in his office," Karura said sternly. "Geez, Kendappa. I can't believe we're even discussing this."

"Why wouldn't you do it? Lock the door. Or maybe," Kendappa grinned, "you've never sucked a man off before. Really, it shouldn't be too hard, just open your throat and…"

_I'm getting tips on deepthroating from a lesbian, _Karura thought distantly. _Surreal._

The musician was still talking. "Of course, if he's down your throat you have to swallow, but they like that better anyway," she said, sounding for all the world like a scientist discussing clinical research specimens.

Karura was about to ask Dr. Oh what she should expect in that eventuality, but there was an exuberant knock on the door and Varuna burst in, beaming. "Hi!"

Kendappa smiled. "Oh hey, Varu. How're you?"

"I am just fine, Kendappa, thank you." Varuna, who was downright exuding innocent unawareness of X-rated topics, glanced at Karura and froze for a second.

Kendappa patted her friend on the shoulder. "Well, I gotta go. Seeya, Karura!"

Kendappa winked as she left the room, mouthing "Office sex" over Varuna's shoulder as Karura flushed crimson. He looked confused and a little afraid, and seemed to be looking anywhere but at her.

"Varuna, what is it?" she sighed. "Is there something on my face?"

"No. Um, Zouchouten wants you. He needs somebody to cover Bert's shift tomorrow." His face was turning red with embarrassment, and Karura suddenly realized with something approaching horror that her nipples were hard and could clearly be seen, despite being covered by two layers of clothing.

"Gee, it sure is cold in here," she said desperately. "My teeth are going to start chattering any minute." She gripped her arms for good measure, hiding the source of discomfort. "Brrr."

Varuna nodded in what looked like relief. "The air conditioning's been going nuts lately. I told Koumokuten but he just ignored me," he said solemnly as she brushed past him.

"I'll tell Koumokuten too," she assured him, relieved that he'd bought her excuse.

Out in the hallway now, she glanced down. _All right, we got a little excited. It happens. The thing to do now is to think of something harmless. Do __not__ think about office sex._

A brief vision of pinning Zouchouten to his desk immediately flashed into her mind.

_Fine, hormones, be that way. I'll think of something off-putting instead. Like two obese men getting it on._

She cringed. That had done the trick, but now she had the urge to throw up.

The day after the office sex discussion, Bishamonten imperiously told Koumokuten, "Sit down."

The darker man did, lounging in his chair and taking out a cigarette. "Hey Bish, where's King? I like him better than you, ya wanker."

Bishamonten frowned at such insolence. "Taishakuten is on a golf date with an ambassador from the Italian Mafia, Oeste. And by the way, _I_ am missing it because I must talk to _you, _you pathetic idiot. So don't smoke, because I –"

Koumokuten lit up anyway, grinning at his fellow criminal. "Gee Bish, I'm sorry, I couldn't hear whatcha said. I just heard 'bawww'."

The second-in-command gritted his teeth and tried to breathe through his mouth. "Oeste, we've found out that Skye knows Taishakuten is in this city. We also have reason to believe that a government agency has learned this as well."

Koumokuten inhaled and blew out smoke. "What, you think Skye's helping them? I wonder if that Valentine guy's federal."

Bishamonten sighed dismally. "I personally think these two problems are separate, but Taishakuten thought you should be warned. No sense taking chances, Oeste. Now, you were under the impression that Skye pulled back."

Koumokuten shrugged, a "silly me" gesture. "I thought so, but she obviously found out he's here, so maybe she's just been meeting contacts somewhere else."

"Perhaps," Bishamonten murmured. "Either way, it's too late now."

Koumokuten paused, his cigarette held right near his lips. "Do you want me to kill her, then?" By now, he felt only the slightest bit of regret about that. Karura was a good bouncer, but really, she could be replaced.

Bishamonten shook his head, frowning again. "I personally think you should, but Taishakuten wants you to toy with her a bit more, I don't know why."

They both considered this. Well, Koumokuten decided, it wasn't like Skye was going to go Rambo on Taishakuten's base, because she had no idea where it was and she had no one to back her up. He put his hands behind his head, leaning back in his chair with his cigarette held between his teeth, and nodded.

Bishamonten nodded as well. "Good. You know, Oeste, even I don't understand him at times. But he is," he smirked, "the king, after all."

"Yeah. He is the king, by name and power." Koumokuten flicked ashes onto the expensive carpet, and Bishamonten glared at this. He hated Koumokuten. They'd never gotten along, not even over twenty years ago. Koumokuten had been Taishakuten's go-to attack dog, and when he'd left Bishamonten had nearly danced in glee, because he was rid of a potential rival.

_Now, of course, _he smirked in his head, _I'm__ Taishakuten's go-to attack dog, and you, Oeste, are a lesser beast to my alpha. I'm better than you, I always have been, and I always will be. What a lovely feeling._

The lesser beast, however, apparently thought _he_ was alpha, because he grinned at Bishamonten and said, "Hey Bish…I've got the best idea ever. Taishakuten will love it and you can be all jealous at my brilliant mind with your subservient little self."

Bishamonten's eyebrows snapped together in a glare. "Oeste, don't forget that I am your boss."

"No," Koumokuten corrected cheekily, "you're my fellow higher-up. I only talk to you because Taishakuten talks through you. So tell him," he stood up and grinned nastily, "that in exactly one week, Skye will either back all the way off or get so upset she'll make a mistake."

"Don't threaten her point-blank, Oeste. We've been over –"

Koumokuten made a rude gesture at Bishamonten. "I won't do _that_. I won't even harm her _personally_. I'll just send her a message she can't ignore, and the best part is… someone else will pay the price. A friend of hers, because she's the type of person who's loyal like it's going out of style."

He turned and walked away, chortling "Bye Bishie" as he left.

On opposite sides of the wall, both Bishamonten and Koumokuten thought, _You stupid bastard. Burn in Hell._

That afternoon, Aguni stalked into work wearing her favorite Mistress heels, because she felt like it. She could do what she wanted, because she was a goddess after all.

Vahyu gave her a slightly scared look. "Hey Aguni, um, are those…are those steel-toed?"

"Yes," she informed him airily. "I like them."

Vahyu seemed intimidated. Good. Aguni privately thought that he would be bawling even after less than a minute of being her slave, but of course she had no desire for him. It was nice to see him turn pale and edge away, though.

"Hey Beauchamp!" Koumokuten snapped from above them, leaning over the railing. "You stupid weenie, you didn't punch in yesterday! Now I've gotta figure out how long you were here."

He caught sight of Aguni. "Aguni, how long was Vahyu here yesterday?"

"I have no idea," she shrugged. "Ask him."

Vahyu said, in a rather affronted tone, "I was here at five on the dot, sir, and I left at twelve on the dot. I took a meal break at nine-thirty."

Koumokuten glared. "I'm sure you did. I'll bet it was an hour long, wasn't it?"

"It was not," Vahyu sniffed, "an hour long! It was half an hour." Actually, it had been forty-seven minutes, but Koumokuten was being nasty again so what the hell.

Koumokuten muttered something under his breath and slammed the office door. Vahyu gave it the finger, then stomped off.

Aguni herself smirked. Oh, silly Koumokuten, taking out his bad mood on innocent people like Vahyu. Perhaps the man should be gagged after all.

She considered this for a moment. Well, why not? Although he would no doubt fight it all the way. He'd submitted in the woods, but he hadn't been very happy about it, she remembered rather gleefully. He had glared at her for a full week but he'd apparently gotten over it, Aguni chortled mentally, because he was back to staring at her lustfully.

She wondered if perhaps she could entice him back into her bed. Dominating the boss was always fun, and while he wasn't _handsome_, she herself found him pretty _sexy. _That ab tattoo was rather hot, she mused.

And goodness knows, the man had been good. And she liked him quite a bit, because he had no time for weak people and neither did she. Maybe, if she played her cards right, he'd end up _asking _to be tied down, wouldn't that be fun?

With visions of Koumokuten contentedly restrained dancing through her head, Aguni went into the kitchen and plotted out her next move. By the time he came in to ask if she'd taken her break yet, she'd made her plan.

"Actually," she murmured, taking off her apron, "I was about to take it now."

"Great," he nodded. "Just tell Varuna when you're done. He's been whining for a while."

"Varuna is such a pathetic, whinging complainer," Aguni purred, and Koumokuten sighed and nodded. "So true. Dumbass keeps asking if he can have Saturdays off for 'family time'."

They both smirked, because family time was for losers. Aguni put Phase One into action: "Koumokuten, I thought maybe you might _join _me on my break."

He gave her a weird look. "I already ate. Besides, Z keeps grinning and staring off into space like a moron, and I gotta make sure nobody puts one over on –"

"Koumokuten," Aguni smirked, "I thought I might take my break in the _storage room._"

Koumokuten, bless his pervy little heart, didn't even think on it. "Well _okay _then, babe. Z can handle himself. Just no –"

"Oh, don't worry," Aguni grinned. "I won't make you do anything you don't want to."

Koumokuten looked like he'd just been given the keys to Heaven. "Awesome. Y'know, Aguni, I won't even count this as break time. You can take another one later to actually eat."

She grinned some more. "Why how _nice _of you." They walked out of the kitchen, smirking in anticipation, and locked the storage room. By the time Zouchouten tried to open it to put in a few chairs, he could tell it was a lost cause before he even tried the door.

He rolled his eyes in exasperation, thought for the hundredth or so time that he really should take the lock off the damn thing so this couldn't happen, and stuck the chairs in the office.

Two days after Aguni did naughty things with Koumokuten, Kujaku was drawing on the sidewalk with Ashura. He loved chalk, and had always had to forcibly hold himself back from doodling when marking out a fake body in law enforcement training.

Ashura was making a giant cow, for some reason, and Kujaku was helping him and doodling a series of KUJAKUs in various graffiti styles. He was drawing green flames on one of them when Ryuu's voice came from behind him.

"Gee Ashura, that's a great dog you've got going there."

"It is _a __cow__,_" Kujaku informed the Philistine. "Can't you see the udder?"

Ryuu looked, and yes indeed, there was a clearly labeled udder. Whoops. He grinned sheepishly. "Sorry Ashura. Maybe I need glasses."

As Ashura showed Ryuu the well-drawn left front hoof, Kujaku studied the teen. Ryuu, he had realized, was a good kid. A little grumpy, but he hung around during the summer when he wasn't needed as much. He was Ashura's _friend. _Heck, he was _Yasha's _friend, and Kujaku had decided that Ryuu should be his friend too.

So the agent held out the coveted verdant chalk. "Hey Ryuu…why doncha join us? I'll even let you use the special _green _chalk!"

Ryuu shot him a "gee thanks" look. "Well of course I'll join you guys. I came over to see Ashura, after all."

Kujaku shook the green chalk slightly, but Ryuu just glared at him in distrust and grabbed the white chalk. Hmph. Maybe good ol' Ryuuy just didn't appreciate the color green like the artist Kujaku did. Ryuu would probably just draw stick figures while Kujaku created his graffiti masterpieces and Ashura finished that humungous cow.

But no, Ryuu was making a preliminary sketch of an eastern dragon. Kujaku watched, somewhat stunned, as the redhead started to flesh it out and made it come to life with just a single piece of thin chalk.

Ashura clapped his hands in glee. "Yay Ryuuy, that's a neat one! Will you draw scales on it too? You draw scales really well!"

"Sure," Ryuu agreed. "I'll draw some rounded ones, okay?"

And indeed, as Kujaku messed up every single one of his names and Ashura gave the cow a ton of spots and made it a longhorn, Ryuu Nahga added scales, whiskers, wings, claws, and even fire coming out of the dragon's mouth.

"There," he grinned, signing his art with a flourish, "he's all done."

Kujaku found his voice. "Dear Jebus son of Bob, that's totally wicked! What else can you draw?"

Ryuu looked proud of himself. "Most things. Dragons are my favorite, though." He grinned. "Appropriately enough."

" 'Ryuu' means 'dragon' in Japanese," Ashura told Kujaku, proud of his foreign language skills.

Kujaku, who had spent time in Osaka, pretended to be floored by this information. "No way. That's really cool! Ryuu likes the ryuu, huh?"

The aforementioned guy nodded, still not completely trusting Kujaku. "Yeah. I can whip 'em out really fast. Here, I'll draw a western one this time."

As the teenager again created a visual masterpiece, Kujaku considered how to get Ryuu to like him. His gift of the exotic chalk hadn't worked, but perhaps…perhaps _food _would! Yes, everyone loved food, and Kujaku had –

Well actually, Kujaku had no food on him. He and Ashura had already eaten the last breath mints. Well, he had bubble gum, and Ryuu didn't have braces, so yes, gum would work!

Hopefully.

"Here Ryuu," Kujaku offered, taking out a giant, blue watermelon piece of yummyness, "have some bubble gum."

Ryuu shook his head quickly. "No thank you. I only like sugarless gum, because it's better for my teeth."

Kujaku then decided that Ryuu was a younger Yasha-clone who looked nothing like the sexy Literature teacher. Damn. He couldn't flutter his eyelashes at this one or show him his awesome peacock tattoo.

Well _actually…_maybe he _could. _Ryuu was apparently an artist, and he might appreciate the work that had gone into the peacock. And then he might decide that Kujaku was a-okay.

So Kujaku beamed at the dragon boy. "Hey Ryuu…you into tribal design?"

Ryuu paused; the purple-eyed man was grinning, and Ryuu did not trust that grin. "Somewhat," he replied cautiously, as Ashura finished his cow and came over to stand next to his babysitter.

"I have a tribal tattoo," Kujaku informed the older boy, as if this made him unique. "Wanna see?"

Ryuu had a trapped look on his face, because he did _not _want to have this whacko show him hidden skin. "No, that's okay, really, I'm not that into –"

Too late: Kujaku had already pulled his shirt up. "Cool, huh? I designed it myself," he bragged. Yes, his peacock was very cool. Sometimes when the agent got bored he even put metallic bodypaint on it for effect and took pictures of himself.

And hey, it was working! Ryuu's eyes lit up even as his mouth stayed in a frown. "Dude…that's awesome!"

He reached a hand out to prod it…and Yasha came out of the house right then.

Kujaku was facing mostly away from the longhaired man, but Ashura's happy "Hi Yasha! I drew a cow!" made him spin, Ryuu snatching his hand back like he'd been burned.

The open-mouthed Yasha stared, going red, and Ryuu prayed that he would miraculously not die. He knew Kujaku wanted Yasha and that Yasha wanted Kujaku in some way too; Ryuu was intelligent. It was rather disturbing to him, but he'd always just figured "Live and let live".

But he himself would _not _live if Yasha came at him because he thought the redhead had been groping (gag) Kujaku, Ryuu knew this for a fact. He had once seen the bespectacled man take down a biker, whose daughter had hit Ashura and who had laughed at his kid's actions. Then Yasha had taken down the biker's brother_, _who had been even burlier than the first guy. If his life had been a fantasy manga, Ryuu was convinced Yasha would have been some sort of stoic, dangerous warrior.

Maybe even a _samurai, _the teen decided as Kujaku frantically assured Yasha that he had just been showing an artist his own skin art!

Yasha-san sighed then, glancing over at Ashura's cow and murmuring, "That's a lovely Texas Longhorn, Ashura. Very nice."

Ryuu let out a relieved sigh of his own. "Yeah, and nice tattoo, Valentine. Put your shirt back down, nobody wants to see your chest any more than they have to."

Kujaku hastened to obey, feeling rather stupid and embarrassed. Maybe Ryuu would _never _like him, no matter what he did…

The next day found Zouchouten standing in the lobby of Karura's apartment in happy anticipation. "Hi, it's me," he told the intercom.

"I'll be right down," she replied enthusiastically.

He was about to tell her that she could just buzz him in, but she had already released the "talk" button. He sighed, smiled, and leaned against the wall. _I have it so damn good right now…_

In no time at all, the elevator "dinged" and the doors opened, revealing a near-exuberant Karura Regina Skye, high-heeled and wearing a blouse with the top three buttons undone. Zouchouten had time to think that the neighbors might have started referring to her as "Sexy Skye" by this point before she pushed the door open.

"Hello. Do come in." She pulled him by the arm towards the elevator. Pressing the button to close the doors, she then grabbed his shoulders.

"Wait, wait," he managed. "Public indecency is harshly punished in this city. Save it 'til we get back to your apartment."

She smirked. It was a _hungry_ smirk, one that said "Screw me backwards, forwards, sideways, and six ways from tomorrow". Well, maybe it wasn't saying that, he amended mentally, maybe it was just saying –

"All right, but I want to be on top…for the first round."

Oh dear _God._ He'd created a nympho. He realized that he should feel bad about that; Karura had been such a pure young woman who would have otherwise never in her life thought of saying things like "I want to watch you come for me".

If Zouchouten had been a religious man, he would have beaten down the door of the confessional, and been ordered to recite a hundred Hail Marys in contrition for turning Karura into his private stripper. Well, no, that wasn't quite fair…strippers usually didn't let you touch the goods, but he was getting off the subject.

The point was that he should feel very, very guilty about what he'd done. And there was probably a special place in Hell for people who corrupted upstanding former police officers into lusty vixens, ones who shamelessly groped their much older bosses in public elevators.

_Maybe I should apologize…_

"Sorry," he gasped, and she looked at him strangely. "For what?"

"For…" He lost his train of thought as her hands grew bolder. "For…doing this to you?" he finally managed. It wasn't very articulate, but miraculously, she seemed to get the message.

"Oh no. Don't be _sorry…_I like it. I mean really, Zouchouten, I don't get enough chances in my daily life to do what I enjoy, and I truly do enjoy this." Her voice turned sweet as her hands found her target. "Don't you?"

"Oh _hell _yes," he growled fervently.

"Good. So no more apologizing. I'm doing things I like, and you're not forcing me in any way to do something against my will. Okay?" She looked him in the eye, and he realized that the no-nonsense policewoman was still there.

She might be topless now, but she was definitely still around.

The doors opened suddenly, revealing a teenaged girl. They stared at her. She stared at them, said "I'll wait for the next one", and stepped back to let the doors close.

(AN: Heh, poor Ryuu almost died… good thing it was an innocent misunderstanding. And I for some reason just love the line about confessionals and private strippers.

But uh-oh, a rivalry between Bishamonten and Koumokuten cannot be good for anyone else. Next week you'll all see what Koumie pulls as a warning. Also uh-oh, Aguni's being all naughty with him, yikes. This can't be good either. And isn't he a jerk, playing favorites? Oh Koumokuten, you nasty piece of work you.)


	17. Because I'm Jesus

**Because I'm Jesus**

Three days after the elevator incident, Zouchouten hummed tunelessly as he went through shipping invoices. Ah, work…work was good, he liked work. At once both predictable and constantly changing, being the co-owner of the Four Gods was a full-time job and a half. He'd been doing it for eighteen years and, he'd often thought, if he ever had to give it up he'd have hardly anything else in his life besides his friendship with Koumokuten.

He glanced up as Karura passed by, and smiled slightly. Well, now he had something much better, but he still loved his job.

And today's first few hours had been good ones. Koumokuten had even mentioned that they could maybe put on an addition at the rate they were making a profit. They probably wouldn't, because why mess with perfection? Still, maybe everybody could have significant raises.

Maybe even _Zouchouten _could have a raise. He could use it to buy…well, something important, he really couldn't think of anything right now. Koumokuten would no doubt spend his raise on cigarettes and tequila, or perhaps buy himself a new car (Koumokuten liked fast new cars).

Zouchouten put down his invoices and thought seriously about all the good it would do the world if everyone got more money. He had just decided that Hanranya would probably squander hers on metaphysical crystals when Vahyu stuck his head through the door, looking relieved.

"Oh, good. I'm glad to see _you're _okay, Zou. Did you get in an accident?"

The owner paused, looking at Vahyu strangely. "No, I had a great ride in. Why?"

"Well, your bike looks like it's been in a wreck –Zou?"

"NOOOO!"

Karura and Varuna looked up as Zouchouten rushed past them and thundered down the stairs. "What in the world?" Varuna wondered aloud as their boss made a panicked beeline for the garage. His anguished shout of "MOTHER_FUCKER!_" could probably be heard the next county over.

Coming up behind her lover, Karura thought he seemed near inconsolable. She glanced past him. His pride and joy had been expertly vandalized, the paint scarred, the seat and tires slashed, the wires yanked out and oil flooding onto the concrete, with parts of the handlebars and undercarriage missing. She could even see the broken belts, which also seemed to be missing parts.

"My Harley!" Zouchouten bellowed, sounding like he was in physical pain, dropping to his knees and throwing his arms around it like it was a wounded animal.

Karura and Varuna stared at this disturbing display. _If he bursts into tears, I'll have to take him home and pat his back soothingly while he lets out years of repressed trauma,_ she thought helplessly.

"Z! What the hell? Stop that right now," Koumokuten ordered, having just come up behind them with a worried Vahyu. Then the ponytailed man caught sight of what had been the bike and breathed, "Oh _shit._"

He took a tentative step forward. "Z? You're getting oil on your jeans, Z. Z?"

Zouchouten looked like he was holding back tears. "WHY GOD, WHY?" he lamented at the top of his lungs. Koumokuten succeeded in prying his friend's hands off of the machine and pulling him back, mostly because Zouchouten was too upset to offer any resistance.

Koumokuten turned to his security. "Make sure nothing else has been damaged. We'll check the camera later."

Karura and Vahyu scoured the rest of the garage as Zouchouten hyperventilated, punching the concrete. Koumokuten tried to make him stop by saying comforting things like, "Z, it was just an old bike, don't be such a fuckin' baby."

Vahyu nodded at them after a few minutes. "It looks like everything else is undisturbed. It's just the Harley that got destroyed. Why?"

"They must have had it out for you, Z," Koumokuten told him matter-of-factly. "Who'd you piss off this time? The Mafia?"

Karura felt a horrible sense of guilt. Zouchouten just stared in helpless shock, still beating up the floor absentmindedly. "Oh God, my bike…"

Koumokuten hoisted him up and smacked him across the face. "Z, calm down. Seriously."

Zouchouten took a deep breath. "Sorry. Thank you." The pain seemed to have brought him back to reality: a horrible, motorcycle-less reality, but reality nonetheless. He glanced at his bike again, and swelled with rage. "It can't be fixed. It's been demolished, Koumokuten! When I find whoever killed my wonderful –"

"Z, go home. You're no good to us like this." Koumokuten crossed his arms in a "do not disobey me" display. "I'll hold down the fort, and I won't have any trouble. Right?" he snapped, glaring at his employees.

Zouchouten just kicked the wall repeatedly. "How? My baby's been sent to the great freeway in the sky!" he raged.

A light bulb went off in Karura's head. "I can drive you," she offered before Vahyu made some sort of "I'll take you home, Zou. Or maybe I can get you in my backseat to make you feel better" comment.

Zouchouten stared at her like she'd betrayed him. "I can't leave now, we have a bachelor party tonight and–"

"Great idea, Skye!" Koumokuten said happily. "Take the night off! You've been working overtime anyway, and I'm getting sick of paying it." He nodded to her. "Drive safe."

He turned and walked back into the bar, snapping "Show's over, idiots. Get back to work" to the other two. Vahyu and Varuna followed like obedient dogs who were afraid of being tasered, leaving Karura and Zouchouten alone with the demolished motorcycle.

She looked over at him. "All right, let's go. I'll make you some tea when we get to your house to calm you down."

"No." Zouchouten's jaw tightened in resolve. "This was a deliberate act. Let's pay a visit to that Ku guy. It's time he told us what he knows."

Inside the Four Gods, Varuna stared at the business card he'd been given by a cheerful guy wearing sunglasses, and dialed an unfamiliar number.

Just Hopkins bounced into his boss's office. "Ku, there is a large angry man being restrained by a stern-looking woman here to see you."

Kujaku smiled. "I knew they'd show up," he said proudly. He put down the notepad he'd been doodling on ("Yasha and Kujaku forever. Kujaku Yama-Valentine. Yasha Yasha Yasha. I heart Yasha") and spun around in his chair as Just giggled, which was a very creepy sound indeed.

"Smythe owes Shara a hundred more dollars. He thought it would take three hours, not less than one."

"Are you guys betting again? Twelve hates that. Put me down for an unplanned pregnancy by next month," Kujaku ordered happily as the ominous sounds of someone yelling "I'll heave your desk out the window if you don't find me that purple-eyed weirdo" reached his ears.

Kujaku abandoned his swivel chair and threw the door open. "Hi there. Threatening a federal agent's illegal, y'know."

Karura, who had just put herself between a nervous Shara and a near-homicidal Zouchouten, looked over at him. "Hello. I knew you weren't just a low-level spook."

"Indeed I'm not," Kujaku grinned, walking forwards. "I run this entire team, and I'm one of the best in the business." He performed an elaborate bow, calculated to impress. "Agent Kujaku J. Valentine, codename Playboy One, at your service."

Zouchouten just snorted. "That's a dumb codename."

Kujaku straightened up, annoyed. "Look buddy, I'll change your codename to 'Old Man in the Mountain' if you don't take that back."

As the red-faced Zouchouten drew breath to yell again, Karura cut him off with, "Let's all just calm down. You need us, we need you."

"Yeah," Kujaku nodded. "Pity about your Sturgis," he said to Zouchouten. "Apparently it was a beaut. I used to have a Harley myself."

"Oh." In the face of this unexpected kinship, Zouchouten decided to be magnanimous and play nice. "Yes, it was my baby."

"What color?"

"Standard black. But damn well-maintained standard black."

"No pinstriping or customization?"

"No. How about yours?"

"Black too, but with kickass blue flames. It was great."

"What happened to it?"

The rapid-fire exchange paused for a moment, then Kujaku admitted, "I lost it when it went off a bridge into a river. I had to watch it fall, and you can bet I was mad at the guys chasing me."

He heaved a longing sigh. "I called it 'Yasha'. I loved riding Yasha."

Just's quickly stifled snicker made everyone turn to look at him. "I'm sure you _did_,"the crazy man sputtered. "I'll bet riding Yasha was just your favorite thing _ever._"

Smythe and Shara started snickering too, and while Karura had picked up the idea that "Yasha" was somebody's name, Zouchouten was still confused. "Well sure, I mean, the sense of freedom you get –"

"But enough about me," Kujaku ordered, glaring his immature operatives into submission. "You're here because you've been threatened, correct?"

Zouchouten nodded solemnly. "Yeah. I'd say that was a pretty clear warning sign –"

"You sure, Jumbo? Maybe somebody just wanted to make you mad and knew your big trike thingy would do it," Just theorized, and Zouchouten growled in exasperation. "Does this guy have to be in here?" he muttered to Kujaku, indicating Hopkins with a tilt of his head.

Kujaku nodded. "Yes. We all do." He indicated Smythe and Shara as well. "But introductions are in order: Shara Smith, Karura Skye and Zouchouten Southland."

Shara smiled, looking all sweet and not-packing-a-semiautomatic.

"Tyrone Smythe, Karura and Zouchouten."

Smythe grinned, wondering if either of them would be interested in hearing about his pet weapons.

"And Just Hopkins, K-Kat and Zou."

As Karura bridled at her new nickname, the spiky-haired young man who'd said the trike line smiled sunnily. Zouchouten thought he'd seen saner expressions on shell-shocked Army privates covered in another man's blood.

"These guys are my main honchos," Kujaku proclaimed. "They gather the info and back me up, but _I'm _the main player here," he bragged gleefully. "These three are just supporting actors on the stage of my life."

"And I suppose Zouchouten and I are walk-on roles," Karura muttered.

Kujaku grinned. "Maybe to me, but in your own lives you're the headliners. Everybody's like that."

_Wow, how profound, _Zouchouten thought sarcastically. So far he was distinctly unconvinced that Kujaku would be much use at all. "Look," he told the cocky team lead, "I don't want Karura hurt. I don't want _anybody _hurt. So if I can be of any help, I'll –"

"And why," prompted Kujaku, grinning like he was executing a clever chess strategy, "don't you want Ms. Skye in particular hurt?"

_Ooh, this is funny, _he chortled in his head. _I love making people uncomfortable! _

He had guessed, and guessed correctly, that Zouchouten had only ever said "I love her" to his dearly departed '82 Harley-Davidson. _I'm doing this to help them, _Kujaku told himself with the air of a martyr, _not because I want to see him turn all red and mumble something about "Because she's my friend."_

Zouchouten deprived him of that enjoyable occurrence with a simple "Because I love her very much."

_Oh, scribble-scrabble. But at least it's out in the open now._

Karura reached out and took Zouchouten's hand, and as they smiled at each other, Just pretended to stick a finger down his throat and gag. "Blargh."

The sweet, happy mood evaporated instantly. Before tempers flared again, Kujaku said seriously, "Okay. Let's get our cards on the table: Skye, you think your sister was killed and Taishakuten ordered it. Personally, I think you could be right about that, 'cause he's just that nasty. And we've been interested in your bar, Zou, for a couple months."

Zouchouten cocked his head. "Why, exactly?"

Kujaku paused. He always kept an ace up his sleeve in case he needed it. If Zouchouten told Koumokuten the dark man was under suspicion, the former (possibly current) hitman might go nuts, take out a couple people, and worst of all tell Taishakuten.

So the agent told a good lie instead. "Well, we'd noticed a couple underworld characters meeting a certain lady there, Zou. We just had to check it out."

"Oh, Karura," Zouchouten sighed, sounding annoyed, "I told you that was a bad idea."

Kujaku held up a finger. "In Skye's defense, this past month or so has been completely dead on that front. But I think," he smiled, "that I can use you guys. Keep your eyes open, keep your ears open, and tell us if you find anything out."

"Tell us more about Taishakuten," Karura requested firmly. "Let's get that on the table, too."

Kujaku sighed. "Taishakuten King may be the most dangerous crime lord I've ever heard of. His organization isn't as big as that of many others, but it _is _the hardest to penetrate. We've tried many times to get someone in as a mole, but no one's been able to. He has a sixth sense for trouble, almost. Actually, if we ever did get someone in by now, he'd probably just feed them inaccurate information and use them to get us.

"His psychological profile, as best as we can tell without face-to-face examinations, is that of a sociopath, possibly even a psychopath. He likes games, he likes violence, and he _really _likes control. He's killed more people than you'd believe, and I'm not just talking about the hits he's ordered. He took out, twenty years ago, an agent by the name of A. Lord, who actually ran this division. He shot him face-to-face, in a crowded courtyard, and vanished."

Kujaku turned sad. "Agent Lord was a friend of my father's. He used to bounce me on his knee and play 'Cops and Robbers' with me. I still have his gun in remembrance."

Shara sighed, a melancholy sound. "Taking down Taishakuten has been Ku's ultimate goal for as long as I've known him."

"And I _will_," Kujaku vowed. "I'll find him someday. And I'll get him and save the world," he grinned sunnily then, "because I'm _Jesus._"

Smythe, Just, and Shara all roared with laughter as Kujaku joined them, smiling proudly. Zouchouten and Karura were just confused.

"Is this an inside joke?" Karura asked. Such potential blasphemy was okay with _her_, but for four other people to laugh like they were at a comedy club seemed a little strange.

"It's not," Kujaku assured her. "I really am."

Zouchouten decided that Kujaku was not only weird but insane as well. "Look, Valentine, current archaeological evidence suggests that –"

"No, it's my middle name," Kujaku snickered. "The 'J' is for 'Jesus'. My mom had a sense of humor. For awhile I thought I should pronounce it 'hey-zoos' like the Spanish, but after I cheated death so many times I just figured, 'Well, it's on my birth certificate as Jesus, maybe there's a reason for that'."

He fixed his tie. "And anyway, the guy's real name was probably 'Yeshua'. Good Jewish name."

Shara calmed down. "Anyway, we know Taishakuten's here, we just don't know _where. _This is a big city, and we can't monitor it all. There have been sightings of the man, but all over, spread out, with no discernable pattern. _However…_we've noticed that his cash flow has increased in the past ten years, and last year it went even higher."

Smythe added, "Even without running weapons and drugs, he's getting a lot of money from somewhere. As best we know, it's coming from one source, and there are multiple theories on what that source is. Some people say overseas mercenary work, although King himself, we think, stays in this country and makes other people come to him. Others think he's involved with Islamic terrorists, which he might be, but he seems to think he's God and nothing else is.

"Ku here," Smythe nodded to his boss, "thinks King's getting all that revenue from a legitimate company he's bleeding."

"Zenmi Industries." Karura's voice startled even her.

Smythe shook his head. "Can't be. We checked it out years ago. Their charity-driven CEO may be somewhat media-shy, but the –"

"No," Kujaku breathed, staring at Karura as it all slotted together in his head. "It really could be. Who would suspect such an upstanding pillar of the community to be funneling money to a crime lord? I'm just wondering how she did it and why."

"Kisshouten North may not have a choice," Karura said sadly. "She's probably controlled by her husband. He's abusing her."

"Right. The one who bought her a yacht for their first anniversary? I think not." Smythe was still not convinced. "We would have known if they were on Taishakuten's payroll, and –"

"Maybe not," Shara pointed out. "Taishakuten's current higher-ups are a closed system. We don't even know who 'Taishakuten's Shrike' is, his second-in-command. Well, not by name or exact appearance, anyway," she amended. "By reputation yes, but –"

"Let me get this straight." Zouchouten seemed to be having a hard time believing what he was hearing. "You think Kisshouten North, 'People' Magazine's Sexiest CEO, had my bike destroyed because some shadowy criminal overlord thinks a bar owner and a grief-stricken bouncer are trying to bring him _down?_"The volume of the last word made everyone else jump.

"I'm surprised you read that schlock," Kujaku commented into the tension-filled silence. "You look more like a 'Newsweek' kind of guy to me."

"The dentist's office had very few periodicals," Zouchouten said absently, "and it was that or 'Women's Health'. …But that's not the point!" he snapped, pinning Kujaku with a molten glare.

"You need to muzzle your attack dog, lady," Just told Karura seriously. "You wouldn't want him put down for rabies." Both she and Zouchouten turned blistering glares onto the weapons specialist as he continued, "Or get him a shock collar for when he barks."

"Just –" Shara started to warn.

"Or hit him with a rolled-up newspaper!" Just went on gleefully, pleased with his exceedingly clever metaphor. "Or tie him in the yard while yelling 'Bad Jumbo! No biscuit!' "

He nodded serenely as Kujaku wondered why he hadn't requested Tom Cruise look-alike guy from New York for this assignment. Tom Cruise look-alike guy, he was sure, would have found a diplomatic solution, or at least knocked Zouchouten unconscious before he blew a fuse and hurled everyone out the window.

Just had one more thing to say: "I can recommend a good trainer who uses negative reinforcement, because somehow I think you'd prefer that to having him neutered for aggression."

Nope, instead they were stuck with Austin frickin' Powers.

"Zouchouten, do _not _kill him," Karura ordered firmly. There was a tense moment when everyone held their breaths and Smythe reached surreptitiously for his gun, then Zouchouten sighed and nodded gloomily.

Giving Just a sharp glance so he wouldn't say anything about alpha bitches, Kujaku put up his open palms in a peacemaking gesture. "Okay, back to Zenmi Industries. We can probably get someone in there if we move cautiously. Now, if the CEO's in on it, then Skye is probably right and her husband is too. Now, Taishakuten…"

He continued speaking, but Karura's brain had just thrown an echo into her head that she was quite surprised she hadn't remembered before: a cultured male voice saying "No no, Taishakuten, it's fine." _Dammit, I knew I'd heard that name before!_

She smacked her palm into her forehead, hard. Kujaku stopped what he was saying and asked, "Something wrong, Skye?"

"Yes! It's Bishamonten North, he must be connected to Taishakuten. I heard him talking on the phone and using King's name."

Kujaku lit up. "Are you sure about that?"

"Positive."

Kujaku was getting excited. Despite logic telling him that maybe North only knew King as a golf buddy or something, his mind was flying through scenarios of Bishamonten (whatever he might look like) getting captured and crying "Yes, I did it! I'll tell you everything! Here's the keys to Taishakuten's base!"

Smythe was already typing furiously on his computer. "Bishamonten North, huh? …Okay, so just skimming…he's even more media-shy than his wife… born to wealthy parents, attended Yale for two years… spent time in Texas, probably where he met King… parents died when he was nineteen, leaving him with all their assets… oh, here's a good picture of his and Kisshouten's wedding."

He clicked it, and everyone studied the wedding photo. Kujaku felt like singing, because he was well aware that Taishakuten's second-in-command had unusually red hair and was often described as "classy" even when he'd just murdered someone. Oh man, if North really _was _second banana, then Kujaku had the best lead ever.

He glanced over at Shara and Smythe, who both gave him knowing looks. Just, however, peered shrewdly at Bishamonten and pronounced his judgment: "He has girly eyes. He looks like he's wearing _mascara._"

Kujaku, who had lush, dark lashes himself, smacked his weapons specialist lightly. "I can't believe you, Just. We have the best lead on Taishakuten for years, possibly _ever_,and you're making fun of the man's eyelashes."

Karura asked seriously, "So if you tail him, you can find Taishakuten?"

Kujaku sighed, a longing sound. "Boy, I hope so. But even if we do, Taishakuten will be surrounded by minions, and if we find his base we still can't go in on it without preparation. And you know, with video conferencing, maybe North just chats with Tai from miles away."

Zouchouten still thought this entire affair was rather far-fetched. "Uh-huh. I don't understand why you can't just post someone at Zenmi Industries, wait until North leaves, follow him, and get him and hold him for ransom or something."

Kujaku bonked Zouchouten on the head, an action that lesser men might have been thrown into a wall today for. "Well, 'cause of a little thing called 'collateral damage', Zou. We do that, the guns start blazin'."

Just heaved a sad sigh. "Oh I just _hate _collateral damage. They yell at me whenever I do my best work about it. 'Hopkins, you just blew up that bridge!' Well yeah, but I blew up the enemy sniper team on the bridge too, genius!"

Karura edged away from Just.

The meeting went downhill from there, but by the end Kujaku had promised to keep in regular touch about Taishakuten, and Karura and Zouchouten had promised to collaborate with him. Zouchouten had decided that he would figure out who had destroyed his Harley without needing Kujaku's help, "And when I do I'll tell you before I beat them up and deliver them to you tied to a streetlamp."

It was only when they were turning to go that something occurred to Karura. "Which agency do you work for? CIA? FBI? NSA? Someone else?"

"We," Kujaku grinned, "work for a group called 'Black Crows', and not the grunge band either. I won't tell you who it is. Now, I could show you ID from anywhere and you'd believe me, but," he winked cheekily, "I think everyone should have a bit of mystery in their lives."

Zouchouten personally thought he had enough mystery in his life already. What horrible person would vandalize a man's beloved bike? Well, they would pay when he found them, he vowed as he buckled his seatbelt. He would force them to apologize with their head under his heel, and dammit, they would _mean _it too.

The next morning, Koumokuten sang an appropriate song as he strolled over to answer his door. "Ya know I'm bad, bad, bad, ya know it – Oh. Bish." He grinned with false congeniality at the man standing on his porch. "So what brings you here? And I get the sense you didn't like my singing."

Bishamonten shoved inside. "No, Oeste," he snapped. "You sound like a cat being tortured."

Koumokuten thought that was rather bitchy, showing up just to insult him after he'd done such a good job yesterday. "Yeah? Whaddya want, pretty boy?"

Bishamonten's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Taishakuten sends his thanks for a well-executed warning."

Koumokuten nodded, feeling somewhat bad about his choice of targets. But hey, who would suspect Zouchouten's best friend of taking out his Harley? "Yeah. Well, at least she'll back off now. Hopefully. I mean, Z was a mess. He raged on the phone for a full hour about how he was going to find the culprit."

Bishamonten did not share Koumokuten's enthusiasm. "It sounds to me like he's determined to find you and make you pay. You've lost your touch, and –"

Koumokuten blew smoke in his face from the cigarette he'd just lit. "Oh shut up. I haven't. I'm on it, Bish, he won't figure out I did it. The camera's wires were cut the day before yesterday. I'm safe, and I'll have you know that _you _wouldn't have been able to do such a good job, dumbass."

Bishamonten went into "offended non-smoker" mode. "Look, you imbecilic, oversexed, brainless –"

"I bet you got to the top by sucking Tai, huh? Catamite," Koumokuten threw out exuberantly. _Ha... homosexuality: the ultimate diss!_

Bishamonten's left eye twitched. "Don't insult me! I am Taishakuten's most trusted confidante because I am –"

Koumokuten couldn't help noticing that Bishamonten hadn't screamed "I did not!" and gone for his throat like he himself would have done. As the other man listed his assets with insults thrown in, the bar owner pondered this fact. _Sick. Well, he is all pretty and shit. And how else would he get to the top, he's such a whiny tattletale. I used to outgun him all the time. But really…would __Taishakuten__ go for it?_

_Maybe if it was a power thing? That's it, I'll bet. …Oh God, if Tai tries that with me I'll scream "NO!" and get myself killed, blech._

"– And unlike _you, _I have stayed by Taishakuten's side for over twenty years! I did not run off and play around with alcohol and make friends who will hold me back!" Bishamonten finished, glowering like a hangman.

Koumokuten flicked ashes at him. "Okay Bish. Point taken. But I'll bet you anything you want that Z won't find out until it's too late to save Skye."

Bishamonten considered this. "Hmm. You are that confident?"

Koumokuten smiled, a happy expression that still managed to look threatening. "Sure. Wanna take that bet, Bish?"

Bishamonten turned to go. "No, Oeste. I am not a betting man."

"Okay." Koumokuten slammed the door rudely, and as Bishamonten walked out to his car, the redhead smiled as well. "I am not a betting man, Oeste," he murmured, "because I do not play for money."

He opened the car door, smirking at his reflection. "Instead," he purred to himself, "I play with lives, and if you are wrong about this you may find yourself coming up short… Koumokuten."

Karura picked up her coffee and sighed. Zouchouten had informed her that today was her day off, and that he would tell everyone who worked at the Four Gods that anything even remotely suspicious should be reported to him. He had assured her that Kujaku would be kept out of this, and suggested that she find Kendappa and ask for her help too.

So here she was in a city park, while her man no doubt spent all his time in the bar stalking around and threatening people he found suspicious, as the sun was starting to go down and Souma fed Kendappa candy.

"…And if you notice anything, please tell me." Karura had told Kendappa and Souma a bit more; she'd mentioned Kujaku because he had suggested she should. He'd pulled out facts about the two women that Karura hadn't known and smiled, "Moon could be useful! A fourth-degree black belt…perhaps I should recruit her."

Kendappa sighed. "Sure. So if –" She broke off as a wavy-haired man wearing sunglasses and a shirt that said "Trust Me, I Do This All The Time" appeared at Karura's elbow.

"Well hello ladies! I'm Ku, Skye's new best buddy!" He took off his sunglasses and grinned. "Let me guess…you're Kendappa," he nodded to the longhaired woman clad in the "House of Blues" t-shirt, "and you must be Souma, 'cause you're holding Kendappa's hand and looking all serene!"

The martial-arts instructor nodded. "Yes. Nice to meet you, Mr. Ku."

Kujaku pulled up a wire chair. "So, did Skye tell you all about her new best friend?"

Kendappa studied him closely, because after all, she'd never seen a spy before. "Yeah. And you're here because…?"

"I wanted to talk to your girl, that's all," Kujaku grinned. "Ms. Moon, someone with your talents could be very –"

"Absolutely not," Souma cut him off firmly. "I'll keep alert, but I will not be joining you, thank you very much. I won't put Kendappa in any more danger than I have to."

Kujaku sighed, putting his sunglasses back on. "Okay, I tried. But here," he passed them both cards, "let me know if anything happens, okay?"

He watched Kendappa feed Souma a tiny candy with a hard-to-decipher look on his face. "I wish _my _baby would feed me candy in public like that," he muttered.

Kendappa lit up. "Who's that? Do I know her? Or him?"

"No. Never mind." Kujaku gave the candy box a hopeful glance, but wasn't offered any.

Karura murmured, "Is that all you wanted?"

Kujaku stood up. "For now, mostly. I wouldn't say no to a treat, though," he hinted, a sugar-addicted toddler faced with sweets he couldn't reach. Souma took pity on him and handed him a couple, and he beamed.

"Gee, thanks Souma! You're my second new best friend!"

He waved and meandered off, whistling the theme from "Die Another Day", swinging his keys and waving at a small child. Souma blinked, a little stunned. "He doesn't _seem _like a secret agent."

Karura sighed. "That's what Zouchouten thought too."

Kendappa giggled. "Zouchouten probably thought Ku was a weirdo trying to hit on you when he showed up in the bar."

Karura considered this. Maybe that was true, as Zouchouten did seem to have an irrational dislike of poor Kujaku. (Zouchouten, of course, hadn't mentioned the crossdressing crack Kujaku had inflicted upon him).

She sipped her coffee, then murmured, "Perhaps he did. But he's willing to cooperate now."

Souma gave her a tiny smile. "I'm sure he is."

"Yeah," Kendappa chipped in, "because men will do anything for sex. And speaking of sex…"

Karura hastily stood up. "Listen, um, I need to go use the bathroom."

Kendappa smirked, not believing the bathroom lie. "Okay, Souma and I will just sit here and discuss you and Zouchouten in bed behind your back."

Karura gritted her teeth, wishing that this had been covered in police training. "No. Don't do that. I'll just sit here and drink my coffee, and we can talk about other things. Like your album, Kendappa, I heard that it–"

"I think she's trying to distract us," Kendappa told Souma gleefully. "Maybe it works on Zouchouten, but _I_ can see right through it!" she bragged. "Now Karura, have you had that wonderful thing known as office sex yet? You should lock that door and go Mistress on him with your handcuffs!"

"No!" Karura snapped, so loudly a flock of nearby sparrows took startled flight. "I am not going to discuss this!"

Souma considered her, then turned to Kendappa. "Kendappa, leave her be. She's clearly," the martial artist smirked, "embarrassed by such a natural, ancient topic."

Kendappa just cocked her head and grinned at Karura. "Have you at least blown him?"

Karura decided that since inappropriate things were obviously going to be said anyway, she didn't have to listen to them. She stood up, told the other two in no uncertain terms that she was leaving, and walked away with her head held high.

Souma and Kendappa watched her go, then shrugged in unison. "Okay, so," Kendappa whispered, leaning in, "I'll bet she has, because…"

Alas, Zouchouten did not find out who took out his Harley. The security footage was useless, the wires having been cut. Koumokuten shook his head regretfully. "Damn Z… that stupid blind spot near the door, huh? I knew we shoulda installed another one."

The blonde thunked his head on the wall. "Whoever killed my bike is a bastard, Koumokuten. I'll make them pay, and if anything else happens, I'll –"

"Yeah, a _total _bastard," Koumokuten agreed. "What a dick. But Z, really, you won't even tell me why you think they did it?"

Zouchouten shook his head. "I'm sorry, Koumokuten. It's a…private problem."

Koumokuten gave him a slight shrug, letting it go. "Okay Z, but Vahyu keeps checking under tables for assassins."

Zouchouten thunked his head against the wall again. "I know. I'm sorry. And Varuna's no better. He thinks the locked storage room is being used for drug running."

Koumokuten snorted inelegantly. God, Varuna was a moron. "The locked storage room, this last time at least, was being used for –"

"I know," Zouchouten cut him off, glaring. "I really wish you wouldn't do that. It's irresponsible, it's reprehensible, and it's unsanitary for –"

"Z," Koumokuten smacked him on the back, "one of these days I'm locking you in there with two horny babes. You won't bitch at me after that," he proclaimed. What straight man could resist such temptation?

Zouchouten stepped away from the wall and went back downstairs, thinking that Koumokuten really needed some form of electroshock therapy.

(AN: Just's comment about a good trainer who uses negative reinforcement is off the mark, because dog training is actually more effective if one uses positive reinforcement. Of course, Hopkins probably just wanted to piss Zouchouten off and thought it was funny.

I swear that man is on the autism spectrum or something, and yes I can say that, because I'm on it myself and _I _find people with no social skills annoying.

Sorry if I offended anyone by giving Kujaku the middle name of "Jesus". He has it because he's just super awesome, and I'm not trying to be blasphemous, really! After all, in Hispanic countries an awful lot of men are named "Jesus" (how the heck do I do accent marks over letters? Anyone?) Not being religious myself, I find it that an interesting cultural comparison.)


	18. Eighth Deadly SIn

Weeks later, Zouchouten looked up as Koumokuten burst into the office, sending the door banging against the wall and yelling, "Vahyu, go hit on Varuna! That guy you just scared off was the health inspector!" over his shoulder.

"Dammit Z, can I fire him yet? Please?" he whined as his friend sighed and turned off his computer document.

"That might be construed as discrimination," Zouchouten pointed out. "Except for his shameless vamping, Vahyu's a real asset to us."

"Okay, then _you _deal with Cocksucker Sparklepants from now on! He's wearing lip gloss today! _Lip gloss, Z! _They shoot people like him in some parts of the country, you know."

"And they'd thump their Bibles and scream 'Back to the infernal realms of Godless Hell with ye' if they caught sight of your wrist tattoo, so what's your point, Koumokuten? I thought you _wanted _us to be progressive," Zouchouten responded, passive-aggressive like no one's business.

Koumokuten threw himself into a chair and rubbed his temples. "_You _can be progressive all you want, but _I'm _spending the next three weeks in Vegas. I leave in four days."

He looked up when stunned silence was his only response. "Z, I told you I was taking a vacation months ago. You know, when you were lecturing Hanranya on not telling a recently-engaged couple that Mercury said they should break up."

"Well, no _wonder_ I didn't remember, Koumokuten! I try to purge such lunacy from my mind." Zouchouten sighed. "It's a survival mechanism."

"We should can her too," Koumokuten said grumpily.

Despite being highly tempted by this intriguing prospect, Zouchouten shook his head. "We can't do that. Look, the heat and humidity's affecting everyone, and –"

"You're right about that. Even Skye's gone nuts. She keeps grinning like she's livin' the good life," Koumokuten muttered, glaring at the window.

"Is she now?" Zouchouten murmured, telling himself that a reminder about the dangers of excessive happiness from a stern person might benefit Karura. No sense making anyone suspicious.

"Yeah, and she's wearing a pushup bra today and distracting me with her chest." Zouchouten was too busy recalling the happy experience of helping Karura pick said lingerie out with supreme enjoyment to really catch his friend's last words.

And then, "She's hot, you gotta admit," Koumokuten smiled. "I'd like to get into _her _pants. I wonder if –"

He stopped short as a pair of steely golden eyes shot a burning glare his way. "What?" he demanded. "You got a problem, Z?"

"Leave Karura alone," the other man growled.

Koumokuten's eyebrows rose. "Oh, it's 'Karura' now, instead of 'Skye'? Well well…" He leaned forward conspiratorially. "I _knew_ you were perving on her. Have you done her yet?"

"Stop that right now," Zouchouten barked, hands unconsciously clenching into fists, but his friend ignored the clear signals he was sending.

"Aw, I'm just curious. You've never taken an interest in anyone here before." Koumokuten gave him a "props to you" smirk. "She must've come on pretty hard. Or did _you_ come on to _her?_ You kept looking at her like she was a –"

Zouchouten got to his feet, teeth gritted. "You're insulting me and you're insulting her. Nothing's going on," he lied.

The darker man's face lit up. "Really? Then you won't mind if I take her for myself."

Zouchouten was stunned speechless at this, so Koumokuten said grudgingly, "Okay, okay, you can get _some _action…when I'm done with her. I'll get bored eventually."

That snapped Zouchouten right out of his trance. "You…you son of a _bitch!_"he roared, reaching across the desk and grabbing Koumokuten's collar. Nose to nose with his business partner, Zouchouten snarled, "She's not a toy, and she has absolutely no interest in you or anyone. Leave her alone, or I'll _make _you do so." He punctuated his last words with a shake.

"Okay, Z, calm the fuck _down_," Koumokuten groused, prying Zouchouten's hands from his shirt. "Overreacting much? Sweet, innocent Karura bringing out some protective instincts? That's funny as hell."

"No! …Well, I mean, you _do_ have a history of being somewhat of a bastard in the women department, Koumokuten," Zouchouten amended, remembering Parvati.

Koumokuten stared at him, not following at all. "What? I love chicks. I'd have my own harem if that was allowed."

Zouchouten sighed in resignation. "You just don't get it." He got up and walked over to the door. "But I meant what I said." He shut it very carefully, which was really, Koumokuten thought, even scarier than the usual wall-rattling slam.

A little while after Zouchouten had threatened Koumokuten, Yasha was wondering how he could possibly make a polite escape as Kumaraten babbled on about how his daughter was the best thing ever to happen to the world. Yes, baby Jennifer had just been brought home from the hospital yesterday, and the chemist had insisted that his friend, and his friend's son, "and even your buddy Kujaku" come admire his offspring.

Kujaku hadn't come. He'd sounded very disappointed over the phone as he'd told Yasha, "Sorry, but I can't get away from work."

Yasha had considered asking just what kind of work Kujaku was involved in, just to see what excuse the other man would come up with. Instead he'd murmured, "Some other time, I'm sure," and hung up after wishing Kujaku a good day.

So now, as Kumaraten proudly pointed out each of the baby's tiny fingernails, Yasha had to wonder what Kujaku was up to right this minute.

"You see Ashura," Kumaraten informed Yasha's son, "little Jennifer has made my life complete."

Kahra smiled and stroked the baby's soft cheek. "Yes…you should have seen Kumaraten in the hospital. He grabbed anyone passing in the halls and wanted them to meet Jenny."

Kumaraten kissed his wife on the top of her head. "Indeed darling of my heart. Now I have _two _ladies I'd happily die for. I'm such a lucky man."

Jenny shifted and her mother and father grinned down at her. Yes, they had produced a child! It had been being done for millennia with little conscious effort, but this was an _accomplishment_. Dear lord, the media should be alerted for this action.

Ashura studied Jenny. He'd never been this close to a tiny baby before. "What color are her eyes?" he asked curiously.

"Well Ashura," Kahra smiled, "they haven't opened yet, so we don't know. They'll probably be blue for at least a while, if they don't stay that way like her daddy's did." She leaned her head back on Kumaraten. "But maybe they'll be green, from my side."

Ashura informed Kahra, "I'll bet she'll be pretty, just like you, Kahra."

Kumaraten kissed his wife again. "Kahra is so very very beautiful, there's no doubt about that. The sun of my life rises and sets due to Kahra's existence."

Yasha fought the urge to roll his eyes at such sugary idiocy. Although, hmm…people in love tended to lose brain cells in proportion to their infatuation. Perhaps that was why Kujaku kept acting like a moron.

He shooed that last thought away. He needed to concentrate on making his escape; they'd been here for almost two hours and Kumaraten was not only repeating his daughter's good points, he was repeating his terms of endearment for his wife.

But no, Yasha endured a further half hour, as Kahra offered Ashura food. It was wholegrain pita chips instead of potato chips, so his father couldn't in good conscience say "no".

Finally Jennifer started to wail and wouldn't be quiet. Yasha politely made his escape, and nearly dragged Ashura out to the car as proud murmurs of "She has such strong lungs, precious," and "Just like her daddy, sweetheart," floated in the air behind him.

Yasha, as he made sure Ashura had buckled his seatbelt, was rather wishing that Kujaku had come. Maybe Kujaku could have called in some operatives to show up and say, "We need Kujaku's presence, and Yasha and Ashura have to come too" after the first saccharine hour.

He had just decided that he would use every trick in the book to avoid a repeat performance of today when Ashura told him seriously, "Yasha, I want to visit Jenny all the time. She's really cute."

Yasha pasted a paternal smile onto his face. "Okay, Ashura…_Kujaku _can bring you next time."

Yasha shifted gears rather grouchily, and Ashura grinned. Kujaku was making progress on Yasha, the boy thought, if his father would let the neato man be alone with him for almost three whole hours.

Kujaku was making progress on Taishakuten too. He'd set a couple of tails on Bishamonten, and had been very pleased to see that he spent an awful lot of time in the "Palace of the Gods" gated mansion community, when he lived in a different one. Of course, no one had managed to get in there yet, but tailing Bishamonten had turned up some possibly incriminating evidence.

Sure, they only managed it a fraction of the time, because North was good. He probably knew he was a person of interest. Still, what they had managed to find out suggested that the guy was a money launderer, possible killer, and all around "meanie-head", as Just had dubbed him.

Kujaku _had_ placed informants in Zenmi Industries, low-level cogs in the vast machinery of the company. And he'd scored a huge bonus. He'd wangled an interview with Sylvia Hammer, the CEO's secretary, and learned that Kisshouten North had a certain assistant.

Now he studied the picture on his computer screen of a young man with red hair and green eyes, grinning as he shielded them from the sun, suit jacket off and tie flying in the wind. Tenou King…his last name could very well have been a coincidence, but Sylvia had told Kujaku ("Now you didn't hear this from me") that Kisshouten had hired the guy with no degree and kept him close like an associate she was afraid to let go of.

Kujaku pondered this. If Tenou was indeed Taishakuten's son (and he probably was, as he lived in that wealthy community), this was a very strong clue that Karura had been right and the crime lord was bleeding the company.

The agents knew Taishakuten had a wife and a child, but no one had names or exact appearance, which was so very frustrating, Kujaku sighed. Still, the child, as near as they could figure out, was around Tenou's age.

Playboy One steepled his fingers on his desk and thought. So, if Tenou partnered with Kisshouten to corrupt the company for his father, and Bishamonten showed up and everybody bowed and scraped, Taishakuten might even be using the _skyscraper _as his base. Maybe he had a whole floor that he never came out of?

No, too far-fetched. Someone would have noticed. Sylvia Hammer would have noticed.

The secretary had at first tried to call security on Kujaku, but his polite "I just want to ask a few questions about Mr. North, I'm a reporter" had made her peer around, lower her voice, and tell him to meet her in a restaurant in three hours.

Hammer, Kujaku soon realized, did not like Bishamonten one bit. She didn't think he was a hitman, but she did think he was a white-collar criminal who had taken her boss for a ride and possibly abused her.

Kujaku paused, feeling rather sad. If Bishamonten was indeed Taishakuten's infamous top gun, that last part wouldn't surprise him one bit. He'd tried to steer the conversation to Kisshouten, but Sylvia had shut her mouth tightly. She wouldn't say a word against her beloved CEO.

"Ms. North," she'd informed him, "is a good person. Put that in your story if you put nothing else in."

Was she really? Kujaku had a hard time believing that. The woman was married to Bishamonten, even if he was using her, and kept to herself and had an assistant who he was ninety-eight percent certain was a crime lord's son. He would have _liked _to think that Kisshouten was a victim, because she gave a lot of money to charity and seemed quite nice in her daily interactions with everybody at her office.

But…human beings could be truly two-faced. They could honestly believe they were good people as they embezzled and raped and murdered; they could start wars and be convinced that a peaceful man who had preached "Love thy neighbor" would want them to do it.

No, Kujaku had seen too much of human nature to just take Kisshouten North, CEO of Zenmi Industries, at face value. Even if she was sweet and really did want to save the whales, if she was helping Taishakuten she would be found out and appropriately punished.

He clicked to another picture of Tenou, smiling and handing a security guard a donut. Same with young King. If he was in on this, he'd spend quality time with his scary dad in prison.

Kujaku gazed at Tenou's broad smile, and couldn't shake the feeling that the guy was really not that happy. Not that happy at all.

It was Labor Day, and the Four Gods was closed. Hanranya was spending it on a meditation retreat. Varuna was at the dog park with Mr. Barky (Mr. Barky was a shelter dog, and had apparently lived in a home with small children). Vahyu was at that moment doing something to make Fred Phelps angry. Aguni was reading an essay on the myriad uses of candle wax. Koumokuten was driving, singing along to Rob Zombie at the top of his lungs with the windows open, making a baby in the car next to him start to bawl.

Various unimportant employees were spending the holiday in various unimportant ways, and Zouchouten was vacuuming.

_How the hell did I get crumbs out in the living room? I never eat in the living room._

Well, maybe Koumokuten had done it, as he sometimes dropped in and did things like that when Zouchouten wasn't home. Koumokuten didn't have a key but he was an accomplished lock picker, so Zouchouten hadn't bothered to give him a spare.

_I really should ask him to please stop doing that. Mrs. Feeny keeps telling me he's an affront to God, what with his breaking into my house and making rude gestures at her through the window._

Finally the living room was vacuumed, and Zouchouten wandered over to his couch and picked up a book. It was a nice, informative tome. He liked history, and this particular enjoyable book had a _lot_ of history.

It was all about Nazi war atrocities. He picked up his coffee and had just gotten to the siege of Leningrad when the doorbell rang.

Huh, Karura was an entire hour early. But that was okay, he decided as he dutifully marked his place with a "Give Peace A Chance" bookmark, because that would give them more time to talk and do other fun activities.

Why, maybe he could carry her up the bedroom bridal-style and impress her with his strength, he pondered as he unlocked the door and opened it. Maybe he could greet her with a kiss or –

"Hey Z. I was in the neighborhood so I thought I'd drop by."

Zouchouten was _so _glad he hadn't closed his eyes and leaned forward. Koumokuten, unaware that he had just escaped a potentially friendship-wrecking mistake, pushed his way inside, grinning. "Z, you wanna go down to the lake and throw stones at ducks?"

"Of course not, Koumokuten," Zouchouten snapped, closing the door. "That's terrible." Why harass wildlife if you could help it?

Koumokuten sighed in despair, then brightened up. "Okay, I can just hang out here then."

Zouchouten thought fast. "Actually, I don't think you should. I'm waiting for the cable guy." _Brilliant! _Now Koumokuten couldn't suggest watching football, and maybe he'd leave before Karura showed up.

"Damn, you have my sympathy, Z. I'll wait with you," Koumokuten offered generously.

"You don't have to do that. I appreciate the offer, though," Zouchouten attempted.

Koumokuten just crossed over to the couch and picked up Zouchouten's book. "Hey, Nazi war atrocities. You gotta admit, those guys had a kickass image."

"Koumokuten," Zouchouten told him in what he hoped was a casual tone, "you don't have to stay if you don't want to."

Koumokuten ignored him, opening the book to the Babi-Yar massacre. "Sick, Z. Mowing people down like that is just nuts. Scary."

_Damn. Okay, just be as matter-of-fact and boring as possible so he'll get fed up and leave._

"Say, do you want some coffee?" Zouchouten offered. "I just made some."

His friend put the book back down, having lost Zouchouten's place. "Well, I dunno Z. Don'tcha have any beer?"

"No," Zouchouten lied. "I ran out. Now, I have sugar but no –"

"Oh, no sugar for me. You remember, I like it," Koumokuten smirked, "black. It's more badass that way."

As Zouchouten went into his kitchen, wondering how forcing oneself to drink pure bitterness was badass, Koumokuten considered Zouchouten's DVDs. Why, the man had "The Sound Of Music" and "Citizen Kane" but no porn, what a dumbass. He had just decided that maybe Z had hidden the porn _behind _his collection of stupid stuff when the doorbell rang.

A crash from the kitchen and a yell of "Shit!" made Koumokuten think that he should be nice and get the door. "I got it Z," he assured his best friend, strolling over to let the cable guy in. "Don't worry, you just clean up the coffee."

"No, wait, I –"

Koumokuten swung the door open…and Karura blinked at him.

"Oh, hello Koumokuten," she tried. "I was just…"

He stared pointedly at the CD in her hand: Mannheim Steamroller's "Romantic Melodies". She decided that there was really no point in lying, so she just looked him dead in the eye and ordered, "Let me in."

An evil smile growing on his face, he stepped back and let her walk into the hall. Just then Zouchouten appeared, speckled with coffee, his worst fears realized. Oh _why _did Karura have to be so early all the time?

Koumokuten studied him, turned back and studied Karura, and made a decision. "Skye, stay right there," he ordered, like a general whose soldiers were fraternizing with the enemy. "Z and I are gonna have a little _chat_."

He walked into the kitchen, Zouchouten following reluctantly, as Karura gazed after them and wondered if she should accompany her bosses for Zouchouten's protection. This could not be good at _all._

"Z," Koumokuten hissed once they'd reached the back hallway, "how long has this been going on?"

"Koumokuten, see, I meant to tell you – well, _someday_, but –"

"Were you just gonna play sexy secretary and well-hung executive while everybody else had to follow the 'no workplace affairs' rule? I mean, _c'mon_,Z, you even bitched at me when I brought Candy in that one time and you walked in on her blowing me in the men's room," Koumokuten sneered, arrogant as Bishamonten.

"That was Candy? I thought that was Latonna," Zouchouten said desperately, feeling incredibly guilty.

Koumokuten considered this. "You're right, it was Latonna… Point is, it's a king-sized double standard," he snarled.

The irony of storage room hanky-panky with Aguni did not occur to Koumokuten, because he'd always done things like that. But for Zouchouten to carry on an affair with an employee was almost a Pod Person moment.

"Koumokuten, look, nothing happened at work," Zouchouten assured him desperately. "I swear to you, it's completely platonic there."

"Z," Koumokuten snapped back, "you always said workplace affairs were the eighth deadly sin! Why the hell would you –"

"I _love _her, okay?" Zouchouten growled. "Now shut up. I'm sorry you're upset, but –"

"I'm upset because you _lied_ to me, fucker," Koumokuten growled in response. "I thought we were best friends, Z. I wouldn'ta _cared _if you'd been upfront about it! I probably would've slapped you on the back and told you it was good that you finally lightened up!"

He crossed his arms. "But okay, fine. Maybe this is," he smirked rather nastily, "a good thing that I finally know."

Zouchouten glared at him. "You're going to tell everyone, aren't you."

Koumokuten shook his head, still smirking. "No, I'm actually not. Give me _some _credit."

Zouchouten started to apologize, but Koumokuten cut him off with, "I'm gonna hold it over your head and throw myself a fuckin' orgy on the house when I come back from Vegas, and you're gonna let me."

"KOUMOKUTEN!"

Out in the front hallway, Karura, who had been listening very carefully, winced at the volume of Zouchouten's upset roar. She glared down at the CD, wondering if she should hurl it down and stomp on it in infantile retaliation.

The fact that she'd thought of it like that, she sighed, was answer enough. So instead she walked forwards, through the kitchen, and stepped into the hallway where Koumokuten had just informed Zouchouten that he would be paying for the strippers.

"Stop that," Karura snapped at Koumokuten. "Just because you're jealous, you have no excuse to use this as blackmail."

He gave her a look that made most employees whimper and hide under a table. She gave him one right back. "Leave him alone, I mean it."

Koumokuten turned to look at Zouchouten. "I get it. You like strong women, huh Z. Well, you can be all submissive to Skye as much as you want now, because I'm leaving."

But before he did, he sighed, "I won't have an orgy on the house. But seriously, I'm still a little pissed about this. However," he murmured as he turned to go, "I can't really _blame _you." He smirked at Karura as he pushed past her, then walked back out to his car.

_Z, I knew you were too responsible to be true. No doubt you've been screwing Skye in the office when I wasn't there. And probably when I was, too._

_Ooh, maybe I can get footage…_

The day after Koumokuten had developed a plan to play voyeur, Kisshouten turned a page in her book, candles lit, lying back in her scented bath in her sleeping room's bathroom. She loved this bathroom, because it let her stay away from her mansion with Bishamonten. Some days she never left the skyscraper at all.

The book was most definitely chick-lit, and it was entitled Lady Lily of Foxbright's Valley. Kisshouten knew romance novels were quite ridiculous and full of lies… Kisshouten knew that probably better than anyone. Still, it was a guilty pleasure, and guilty pleasures were things that one was well aware were bad.

In this particular flight of fancy, the heroine was torn between a dashing, mature man and his eighteen-year-old son. Both were of course exceedingly handsome and loved her very much, and even though Kisshouten was certain Lily Lillington would end up with Lord Foxbright because he was on the cover, the little minx was currently making out with his son.

" 'Oh Miss Lily,' he groaned against her mouth, rubbing his young manhood against her through his breeches and her petticoats, 'I love you, Miss Lily, and I simply must have you!'

'But Alexei,' she gasped, her plump bosom heaving sinfully, 'your father, Alexei! We mustn't, we mustn't!'

'Oh _Lily_,' he groaned passionately, kissing her again and again, 'but I must have you, Lily!'

She gave in, tangling her slender fingers in his long red hair, and –"

Kisshouten frowned and shut the book. This was hitting…rather close to home. She put it down and sighed; she'd abandon this one. It was poorly written, even for a romance novel, and thinking about handsome, devoted, red-haired young men in the bath was rather a bad idea.

She ran her fingers through her own black hair, sighing. It took nearly half a bottle of shampoo and conditioner each time to wash it, but Kisshouten's exceptionally long hair was her pride and joy. Sure it was impractical, but she liked it. Other people liked it. Tenou liked it –

She was back to Tenou already, apparently. And he liked everything about her, she could tell. She often turned around and found him gazing at her as if she was a deity and he was an acolyte granted access to her divine presence.

He was not, she was pretty sure, ever going to prostrate himself before her and yell, "Oh, Kisshouten! I will devote my life to serving you!" No, he would just smile and hand her something she needed and devote his life to her anyway.

This made her slightly nervous. Bishamonten, if he ever got wind of that, or the way Kisshouten had started thinking, "Dear Tenou really is such a darling", would put a bullet in her assistant faster than anything and apologize to Taishakuten later. He would no doubt get away with it too.

She liked Tenou an awful lot, more than she should. Which was stupid, and dangerous, and unrealistic, and both calming and thrilling at the same time.

Because he was a good person. He loved to help, he loved to be nice, he even loved staying late at night to work on documents until she made him go home.

Yet this should not be. If anyone, anywhere, found out that Kisshouten North had a love desire for Tenou King, everything would go to hell. She pulled the bath plug and let the water start to drain, thinking that things would just go on as they always had.

(AN: Good thing Koumokuten's going to Vegas, or else life would be quite difficult for Mr. Southland and Ms. Skye. And things are heating up with Kisshouten and Tenou as well. Let's all just hope Bishamonten doesn't get wind of that!

Yes, as you probably figured out, I ship Kisshouten/Tenou. No basis whatsoever in canon, but as one of those people who thinks Kisshouten deserves better than Bishamonten, I'd always thought they might work well together.

After all, it's not like he'd ever get Kendappa anyway! And an alliance between Tentei's and Taishakuten's offspring might make dynastic sense, even though she's probably too old to have kids. Silly to pair these two? Yeah, of course it is, but I still do. Apologies to the Kissh/Bish fans, but Mr. Northland General is too much of a jerk for me to get on board with Volumes Ten's plot twist. Same with Bish's sudden angsting, actually.

Not to mention, the whole "cougar/boytoy" dynamic is interesting to explore here. In my humble opinion, Kisshouten is the penultimate jukujo in terms of looks; I find her the most beautiful character in "Rg Veda".

As far as I know, no book exists with the title Lady Lily of Foxbright's Valley, and if it does, I'm sure it doesn't have characters with those particular names. I would laugh so hard if there actually is a romance novel named that, with a similar plot.

Those of you who are not WWII buffs like I am deserve an explanation for Leningrad and Babi-Yar. Leningrad was a Russian city that the Germans surrounded for 872 days, killing over a million civilians and a ton of Red Army soldiers. Babi-Yar was a ravine in the Ukraine where mobile killing squads executed over 30,000 Jews. Horrible, both events, and I do feel rather bad using them for humorous purposes.

And Koumokuten's suggestion of animal abuse, of course, should just go to show everybody how evil he can be. Next chapter…he'll go further.)


	19. Let It Burn

Koumokuten stalked through the halls of the Las Vegas airport the next day, his phone to his ear. "No, Bish," he was saying, "I'll be coming right back tonight. I already told Z I was gonna be here and I'm here. …What? Hey, Taishakuten _said _I could!"

Bishamonten's voice, Koumokuten thought, was petulant. "Oeste, Skye did not back off after the motorcycle incident. Instead she ramped it up! Your friend _Zouchouten _ramped it up! Now we have to deal with an entire _group _of nosy –"

"Bish, so what?" Koumokuten really wanted a cigarette, but the damn airport was non-smoking. He missed the days when one could light up anytime, anywhere. "So Z's in on it too. He still hasn't figured out that –"

" 'In on it'? '_In on it'?_ Oeste, you said the man has been reviewing security tapes like a maniac and watching everyone who comes into that bar like a hawk! You've created a problem, you conceited buffoon, and just because he is your friend does not mean I'll be lenient!"

Bishamonten paused for breath, and Koumokuten grinned into his phone. "Hey Bish, I know something you don't know."

"And what is that? Tell me. Tell me!"

Koumokuten was mentally picturing Bishamonten as a child by this point, whining that he wanted something and screaming "I'm telling!" The bar owner chuckled. "Z's banging Skye. I just found that out yesterday, and it's no doubt been going on for awhile."

He had thought about withholding this piece of important information for only five minutes. He no longer felt bad about the Harley, and was quite ready to play Judas. Yep, Zouchouten had to be made to pay.

Koumokuten was dead _certain _that his friend had snapped Karura up on day one. Why else would she have turned down his own offer? (Koumokuten had a sad, hardwired inability to realize that women turned him down because they thought he was unattractive, and/or they didn't like his personality).

And while Z and Skye, he thought, were boinking like bunnies, she'd probably mentioned her sister's death and his "buddy" had no doubt said something like "My little snookums, let me help you poke around! I just _love _doing things behind Koumokuten's back!"

As Bishamonten contemplated the new fact, Koumokuten hailed a taxi. He'd planted a camera in his business partner's living room before he'd left (Zouchouten had been asleep upstairs). He'd thought about trying for the bedroom but figured that Zouchouten might find it sooner.

And this way, if Zouchouten and Karura ever talked about finding Taishakuten, Koumokuten would get it recorded. He had set up feed to Taishakuten's compound, and told his boss, "Yeah, I'm taking the initiative, sir!"

Of course, he _had _made sure the camera was pointed at the couch, because it was a nice big couch and no doubt naughty stuff would happen there at some point.

As the taxi driver loaded his suitcase into the trunk, Koumokuten smiled while Bishamonten murmured, "Well. Interesting. Oeste…have you sent her the latest hint? It should –"

"Bish," Koumokuten informed him, "I know what I have to do, okay? And at this very moment," his smile turned evil, scaring the driver a bit, "it's in place."

An hour later, Kendappa was a joyful woman in the throes of passion. "Oh _Souma_," she gasped, "yes!"

Most people would have thought that being in a garage next to a bar, in public, would be grounds to be very quiet, but not Kendappa. No, she was very happy, darn it, and she'd pulled into the garage on the way home from the dojo because she couldn't wait to _be _happy.

Souma loved phone sex. Kendappa loved car sex.

"Oh…oh _yes!_"

As Kendappa writhed and moaned, Souma, her hand down Kendappa's pants, stopped kissing her for a few seconds and looked up because she'd just heard a sound.

Hanranya Monk blinked at two lesbians doing naughty things in a backseat, then smiled and waved. After all, sex was natural and a gods-given gift.

Souma grinned back, flushing, before Kendappa grabbed her head and kissed her again.

Hanranya smiled harder, then unlocked the door to the Four Gods. As head bartender, she had her own key. Vahyu and Aguni did as well by now, as head of security and goddess of the kitchen, which was Aguni's own term.

Hanranya flipped the lights on and sighed. Vahyu wasn't here yet (well, she _was_ quite early), and she rather wished he was. The bouncer let her tell him his fortune all the time, and he had a habit of practicing his dance moves in the middle of the floor before everyone else came in, singing a song from "West Side Story" ("I feel pretty, oh so _pretty!_")

Vahyu's exuberance and strong life force would be missed, because Hanranya knew Evil was afoot. It had been building for months, and she'd felt it getting much stronger as of late.

She had tried to warn her bosses, but Koumokuten had just nodded and pretended to believe her, no doubt making a "crazy" sign when she'd turned away. Zouchouten had snorted and shaken his head like an annoyed buffalo, and if he'd let her ward his motorcycle, Hanranya was certain, the Harley would still be in one piece.

Yes, Evil was coming…and as she walked into the barroom, she had the horrible feeling that it might already be here. She scanned the room, but she was alone. So she crossed to the windows, peering out, but no one was trying to get in. She then moved to the door, and paused.

Something was wrong.

The seer slash bartender didn't hold too much with scientific explanations of entanglement physics or the subconscious picking up danger signals; no, she was convinced that the supernatural was all around her.

But for all she truly believed that she was a reincarnated Egyptian priestess, Hanranya wasn't stupid. Though she was alone, there was a soft, rhythmic noise in the air that shouldn't be there, and when she'd looked around, she had noticed what she'd passed off as a delivery package sitting on a table right next to the dance floor.

She turned to look at it, and indeed, it said "FedEx", but…

What kind of delivery would be ticking? She started to back for the door, but it was too late: the sudden fireball that painted itself across her vision was the last thing she would ever see.

In the garage, Souma dislodged her tongue from a pleasure-glazed Kendappa's mouth. "What in the world?"

"Hmm?"

"The earth just moved."

"Oh yes it _did_,"Kendappa managed. "Care to give me some aftershocks?"

"No! I mean, the concrete shook and there was a noise like…" Souma quickly rearranged her clothes. "Kendappa, _run._"

"Babe, what's going on?" Kendappa sat up herself. "Hey, do you smell something burning, Souma? ...SOUMA?"

"Get out of the garage!" Souma yelled, racing over to the door and yanking it open after making sure there were no flames on the other side. "_Now, _Kendappa!"

"Where are you going? SOUMA, COME _BACK!_"Kendappa raced after her girlfriend, buckling her belt and ready to forcibly drag Souma away.

"Hanranya's in there," Souma told her desperately. "She just went in."

Kendappa's face blanched. "Okay, you go left and I'll go right –"

"No! We'll stay together," Souma ordered, having grasped the fact that Kendappa wasn't about to let her lover run into a potentially burning building by herself. "She's probably in the barroom."

Holding each other's hands tightly, they raced inside the Four Gods, fire alarms shrieking in their ears. A faint glow of flames moved under the door to the barroom, and while it was still cool to the touch, something was obviously burning hard. "Get behind me," the darker woman ordered, and Kendappa obeyed as Souma banged the door open.

No time to take in the smoldering wreckage of tables, no time to turn back and call the fire department, because there was a crumpled figure just in front of the main door. "Hanranya!" Kendappa screamed.

The bartender was mercifully unconscious, facedown in her own blood. Kendappa and Souma sprinted towards her. "Help me carry her," Souma ordered Kendappa, who was gazing at the flames slowly approaching the liquor cabinet in terror. "C'mon!"

A large part of her brain wondering if they would make it out of the blast range, Kendappa obeyed.

Outside, an elderly couple was watching smoke drift out of a window from a safe distance. "Do you think they meant to do that?" the husband asked his wife. "Those kids are always up to no good."

"Herbert, that was a freaking explosion. They're totally screwed," his wife informed him, and Herbert sighed, wondering why she felt the need to talk like their thirteen-year-old granddaughter. "I called the fire squad the second I heard it."

"How could you do that, Reba? There're no phone booths out –" He was cut off as the doors to the bar burst open and two frantic women ran out, carrying a third and shrieking "DOWN!"

Herbert and Reba watched the new arrivals for a while longer, and then there was a noise like a hundred bottles spontaneously combusting. "Now, what do you suppose those young'uns have been doin' in –"

Herbert's sentence would remain forever unfinished, as Reba grabbed him and hit the deck just before another explosion shook the entire block. The blast set off nineteen car alarms, ruptured a water main, singed Herbert's toupee, and sent Kendappa, Souma, and Hanranya to the asphalt. While what had been the Four Gods burned merrily behind them, Kendappa ordered herself to stop screaming and waved frantically to Herbert and Reba.

"She needs an ambulance. Help us!"

The two ran over as Souma turned Hanranya onto her back and stared, tears in her eyes.

"Sweet fuckin' Christ on a crutch," Herbert breathed as Reba's jaw dropped. "What have you gals been up to?"

A little while later, back at the ranch (Zouchouten's house), one of Hanranya's bosses was a _very_ happy man.

"Oh my holy _God_,"Karura breathed, "that was intense."

"Yeah," Zouchouten murmured into her ear. "I think I saw stars for a minute there." There were a few minutes of satisfied silence, before she squirmed slightly. "Can you please let me up? My breasts are getting sore."

"Oh. Sorry." He obeyed, and she sat up, cracking her back and sighing.

"Do you want me to make them feel better?" he offered hopefully.

"Well all right then…"

The sudden sound of a cell phone playing Melissa Etheridge made them both freeze, and Zouchouten heaved a resigned sigh. "I miss the days when those things weren't invented yet." He stalked over to the dresser where the damn thing was still ringing.

"You could just ignore it," Karura told him, slightly annoyed. He shook his head. "No, that's Kendappa's ringtone, and if I don't answer she'll keep calling and if I turn it off, she'll come down here in person because she's just that stubborn. Yes?" he said into the receiver impatiently. "I'm busy."

"Zouchouten, something's happened."

"Souma? Is Kendappa okay?"

"Yes, we're both fine, but…Zouchouten, the Four Gods…somebody planted a bomb."

He almost dropped his phone. "Somebody…_shit._ Was anyone hurt? Please tell me no."

"Hanranya. Hanranya was there." Souma seemed to be holding back tears. "Kendappa and I are in an emergency room, and poor Hanranya…I think she might not make it, Zouchouten…"

Swearing under his breath and grabbing frantically for his clothes, he turned an anguished glance to Karura, who was pulling on her own underwear and listening intently. "Which hospital? Where are you?"

Souma told him, sounding like she was being hugged very tightly. "I'm going to call Varuna and ask him to call everybody else. Is Karura there?"

"Yes. Here she is." He held out the phone to her, mouthing "Souma". As he struggled into his pants, he watched her face go bone-white as she listened to the phone. "No… No…she can't be. NO!"

Karura seemed about to burst into tears. "Okay. Yes, I will. Okay. Yes, I'll tell him." She shut the phone off and said dully, "She wants you to call Koumokuten."

"I'll call him on the way, or you can call him." He studied her. "Why don't you call as I drive."

"Oh no," she snapped, "I spent five years on the police force, and I took three advanced driving courses. _I'll _drive." She lifted her chin. "Now put on the rest of your clothes and let's _go, _Zouchouten."

_I was right, _he thought as they hurtled out the door, _the policewoman is still around… thankfully._

In a Las Vegas motel room, Koumokuten ran a connoisseur's hand over the sleek leg of an attractive woman sitting on the table before him. "Nice. Very nice. You wanna keep those stripper heels on, uh…what's your name?"

"Amanda." Actually, it was Jane Bookington, but that wasn't nearly sexy enough so she just used "Amanda".

Her name could have been a number for all he cared. "Sure. Right. Well, I think that's enough chitchat, so –"

His phone rang, and he sighed but picked it up. "Hold on, I gotta take this."

She was perfectly okay with that, as she happened to be getting paid by the hour anyway. Koumokuten leaned back in his chair and opened his cell, settling the hooker's calf over his shoulder. "Whaddya _want?_"

"Koumokuten, this is Zouchouten. Listen, the Four Gods just exploded and Hanranya was there."

Koumokuten just shrugged. "Is she dead?"

The prostitute looked at him suspiciously, so he waved a hand and muttered, "Just go into the bathroom, Amy. Sorry, Z, I didn't catch that," he said into the phone.

"I said 'no'. Well, not immediately. She's in the emergency room. I can't believe this."

_Oh, I can._ "Is the bar totaled?"

"It's completely destroyed, but for God's sake, can't you think about Hanranya? She was almost killed!"

Koumokuten watched Amanda pull down her skirt and walk into the bathroom, wondering if she'd try to go out the window or stay for her money.

"Of course I'm worried about Moonshine Starflow, but if she's in a trauma center there's nothing _I _can do for her," he pointed out. "Get some rest, Z. I gotta go." He hung up and lit a cigarette.

Hanranya was unfortunate collateral damage (Koumokuten had kind of been hoping to take out Vahyu), but Taishakuten had told him that he'd have to send Skye and whoever the hell she was talking to one last clear message to back the fuck off.

So he'd left a bomb. It actually hadn't been all that powerful (the initial blast, anyway), but it had done its job and destroyed the bar he'd financed, put an awful lot of work into, and spent so many of his waking hours at that it had become a second home. Perhaps he should feel some sort of remorse…

Koumokuten flicked red-hot ash off the end of his cigarette and laughed then.

_Let it burn._

(AN: King Black Acid's "Let's Burn" inspired this entire chapter, and a line from it gave this its title. "Let's Burn" is a dark, slightly exotic-sounding rock song that quite fits AU Koumokuten. Go listen to it, it's quite good.

But geez...good thing Souma and Kendappa were in that garage for naughty business. They're heroes, for heaven's sake. Go Kendie and Souma!

Sorry for the short chapter. The next will have, among other things, a very strange phenomenon: Aguni being _nice_. For a little while, anyway.)


	20. You Wanna Stop Me?

Having left Karura parking the car, Zouchouten burst into an emergency waiting room to find Aguni standing there holding a covered plate, looking lost and almost near tears. "Hello, Zouchouten. She's still unconscious," she murmured.

It was strange to see Aguni like this, he decided, with a sad expression on her face and with her shoulders slumped. She usually sailed through life with a rather disturbing smile, striding around with an "I'm in charge" tone to her voice.

Now she helplessly held out the plate. "I brought her some food, but she can't have it. I mean, I guess I knew she couldn't, but…"

She bit her lip. She had obviously seized on food as the one thing she could do to make Hanranya feel better, and now that the bartender couldn't accept it, Zouchouten realized that the cook was actually in danger of crying.

"Aguni," he told her, "that was very kind of you to do that. Maybe when –"

Her wide-eyed look behind him made him turn. Karura had just entered the room as well, walking over to a nurse and asking him a question.

"I see..." Aguni murmured, a sly smile beginning to grow on her face. Stupidly, Zouchouten assumed she was just happy to see another friend. _Oh good, _he thought, _now she can go back to being strong._

They watched Karura talk as Aguni took in a deep breath, grinning hugely now. As Karura crossed over to them, she nodded to her. "He doesn't know which room she's in, but he said we can go in briefly," she told Zouchouten. "Aguni, where is she?"

The darker woman turned to him and smirked, ignoring Karura's question. "I couldn't help but notice that you're here together," she purred.

He hedged, "Well, Skye was with me when I got the call, and –"

Aguni smirked some more. "Oh yes, she certainly was _with _you. I can smell it on her, you know."

As Zouchouten drew breath to explode, Karura turned three shades of red. Of course. In the sterile air of the hospital, the distinct scent of sex could be faintly observed, especially by someone as attuned to it as Aguni.

"Yes. Fine. I was in bed with him. Why does it matter to you?" Karura snapped, her patience at its end. "For goodness sake, Aguni, get your mind out of the gutter for once and tell us which room Hanranya's in before I tear off your breasts and force-feed them to you."

Both Zouchouten and Aguni stared at her until the taller woman nodded, looking at Karura with new respect. "I knew you were Mistress material. I recognize a fellow Queen when I see one." She waved down the hallway. "She's in Room 213. Her fiancé's with her now."

Zouchouten nodded in a daze as Karura grabbed his arm and maneuvered him down the hallway, away from the smirking Aguni. "A 'Queen'? What is she, some sort of dominatrix?" he asked when they were out of earshot.

"Yes. She once told me she'd like to put you on leash," Karura said distractedly. He considered saying something like "Well, if _you _wanted to do that, I suppose I could try it once", but one look at his bartender wiped everything else from his mind.

A Nordic god-type young man glanced up at them, keeping his hands wrapped tightly around one of Hanranya's, who was unconscious with her face covered in bandages. "I am Hans," he told them quietly. "My beloved fiancée works for you, I think."

"Yes. And she'll be given any compensation she wants," Zouchouten breathed. "Will she…?"

"She is blind. But she will live, Mr. Southland. She will live."

While Zouchouten sucked in a relieved breath, Karura felt terrible. While she'd been having fun with her man, Hanranya had almost _died._

She stared at the bartender, feeling torn between collapsing into a sobbing heap and kicking the wall down in a rage. Hanranya had been _nice _to her, and even if she hadn't, the other woman shouldn't have been hurt because she, Karura, hadn't been able to leave well enough alone.

_I will kill you, Taishakuten. I will kill you myself._

Her phone rang then. She pulled it out and started to turn it off, but Hans stopped her. "No. It is your friend from the government. Tell him what happened and ask him to make whoever did this pay."

The skeptical Karura answered, her mouth dropping open at the voice on the other end. "Ku…jaku?"

Zouchouten turned a disbelieving gaze to Hans, who nodded solemnly. "I can sense small things like that occasionally, Mr. Southland. It is a gift of sorts." He patted Hanranya's hand. "My Hanranya would have laughed in triumph to see your face now," he said sadly, then burst into tears.

His mind swirling with both denial and evidence, Zouchouten gently pulled Karura from the room as a nurse came in.

"No. Kujaku, we're fine. Both of us are fine, but…" She walked off down the hallway, unable to cope with Hanranya's fiancé's broken-hearted weeping. If she let herself focus on it she'd start bawling herself, and that wouldn't help anyone.

"And Souma and Kendappa? Smoke inhalation and shock, or burns?"

Karura frowned. "If you know all this already, why bother calling me?"

"Because I _don't _know everything. All I know is that the bar exploded, one woman was airlifted to the hospital, and, I quote, 'a martial artist and her honey saved her'. Souma was wearing her uniform…those black belts with stripes tend to make people notice you."

Karura pressed her hand to her eyes. "She's been blinded, Kujaku. Hanranya's blind, and it's all _my –_"

"Stop that this instant, Skye," Kujaku told her firmly. "You didn't send that bomb, so this is not your fault."

He sighed, "If anything, it's mine. I've seen what Taishakuten can do. I should have requested extra personnel, but with the budget cuts…anyway," he turned businesslike again, "tell everyone who worked at the Four Gods not to be alone, to keep their phones handy, and if they have a gun to keep it loaded and accessible. Do you want me to give you some protection? I can spare –"

She shook her head, realized he couldn't see her, and replied, "No. I'll be fine."

"I don't think that's a very good idea. Can I talk to Zouchouten?"

Pissed off that the agent thought a bar owner would be more sensible about a terrorist threat than a former police officer, she snapped, "No. He's busy. Talk to him later."

"All right then…"

As Karura let pride and anger get in the way of safety, Zouchouten paced the hallway, regretting every harsh word he'd ever said to Hanranya. He had just made a solemn vow to let her read his energies and stop mentally referring to her as "Crazy Astrologer Woman" when a familiar voice got his attention.

"Excuse me. Zouchouten Southland?"

He stared in confusion. His bartender was lying in the room behind him with bandages over her face, so how could she be standing in front of him now, wearing glasses on a beaded chain and a beige suit?

"My name is Kuyou. I'm Hanranya's twin sister," the apparition informed him calmly. He gaped at her; this had never been mentioned before. Or maybe it had, he realized with shame. He'd practically made a point of tuning poor Hanranya out if she wasn't talking about the bar.

Kuyou asked patiently, "Where is Hanranya, please?"

He found his voice. "There." He indicated the room and told Kuyou, "She's blind. She's unconscious. Um, Hans is with her."

Kuyou paused, looking very sad. "Her fiancé. I had hoped to meet him in better circumstances… Hanranya and I had a fight years ago," she informed Zouchouten, "and she wanted nothing more to do with me. But now," she seemed near tears, "my sister almost died, and I can't just pretend I don't love her."

She nodded at him and walked into the room, and he followed in a daze, not even thinking that butting in on such delicate family matters might be rude. Hans looked up, stared…and grinned through his tears.

"You are Kuyou," he told her, extending a hand. "She will be happy to see you by her side when she awakens. She talks about you all of the time."

Kuyou smiled back, shaking his hand as she started to cry herself. "Then I won't leave until she does."

Zouchouten withdrew, tears in his own eyes, and watched Karura come back, having hung up the phone. "We should probably go," he told her, sounding choked.

She sighed, feeling choked up as well. "Kujaku says to be careful. We have to warn everyone."

"We will," he assured her. "My God, Karura, if Kendappa and Souma hadn't been there…"

She hugged him tightly as he trailed off. "I know. I know. Oh God, I know."

Over an hour later, having left a melancholy Zouchouten staring at the news in his living room, Karura walked down her apartment hallway feeling more than melancholy herself. She felt guilty, she felt angry, and she felt more worried than she could ever remember feeling before.

It was Taishakuten's doing, of that she had no doubt. Bars did not just explode like that for no reason. _I should have pulled back earlier, and I shouldn't have been asking questions there, and now it's too late and we're all in danger._

As she took out her keys, she could hear Garuda squawking behind the door. She opened it and crossed to him. "Sweetheart, I'm right here!"

He still seemed upset, and she paused. Something was wrong…and then she saw it, sitting on her living room table: a charred bangle.

It was an unmistakable message: "We know where you are, we can come and go as we please, and the only reason you and your bird are still alive is because we let you be." She grabbed Garuda, knocked on a neighbor's door, and called the police. Then she called Zouchouten, then Kujaku, and then she started hyperventilating.

Half an hour later, Officer Johnny "Brother" McSweeney looked around and sighed. His first day in uniform was turning out to be much more exciting than he'd expected. He'd missed the explosion at the bar he'd always sort of wanted to go to, but now one of the security personnel from said bar had had a break-in and been threatened.

Was every day going to be like this?

A commotion down the hallway caught his attention. "Sir, this is a crime scene! You can't just –"

"You wanna stop me?" A man who looked scarily built for thirty, let alone fifty, shoved past the officers guarding the stairwell and stormed over to Brother. "Where's Karura? Where is she?" he demanded.

Brother smiled as calmly as he could, remembering his training about diffusing dangerous situations with potentially unbalanced people. "She's safe," he said soothingly. "Now, let's just go over here and –"

"If you don't tell me where she is, I will start yelling and kicking down doors."

Brother blinked. This guy was deadly serious.

"Ah, you must be her father." The rookie realized his mistake as he said it, but it was too late.

"No, I am most definitely _not _her father." The sentence was delivered in tones of dark iron, and the officer gulped. "Right. Well, she's fine. A little shaken, but as far as we can tell, nothing was disturbed."

"Where. Is. Karura?"

Definitely-Not-Karura's-Father was eyeing an innocent door speculatively, so Brother smiled frantically, told him she was at a neighbor's, and offered to show him which one while praying this would suffice.

As Officer McSweeney explained how he'd really wanted to save the apartment building any reconstruction costs to the unit guarding Number 67, Zouchouten made an anguished beeline for the cries of "Peanut! Garuda peanut!" coming from the kitchen.

"Karura!"

Two seven-year-olds stared at the strange man who had just burst into their apartment, the girl with a treat held halfway to Garuda's open claw. The little boy shrank back behind his mother, who smiled, looking relieved.

And next to her, holding her bird, was an uninjured and calmed-down-by-now Karura.

"Zouchouten," she greeted.

"Zouchouten!" Garuda parroted, leaning forwards and snatching the treat out of the girl's hand.

Zouchouten held out his own hand and Garuda stepped onto it, the peanut held in his beak. The man passed him off to the little boy as Karura looked confused, then grabbed her and bent her backwards in a kiss that would have gotten an MTV Best Liplock award had they been on film.

The mother smiled wider, the little boy said "Ew!", and his sister watched this passionate display like a cryptozoologist discovering a whole tribe of Yeti.

When he finally released her, Karura was breathless again. "And…hello to you too," she managed, collapsing into a chair as Zouchouten turned to the mother. "Thank you for taking care of her. And of Garuda."

She gave him a sunny grin. "She takes care of herself. We just helped."

The little girl asked Karura seriously, "Can I hold Garuda now?" The white-haired woman nodded, and the boy passed the happy cockatoo over to his twin. Karura was too busy reaching for Zouchouten's hand to notice the appraising look both children were giving her man.

He squeezed her hand so tightly it hurt a bit. "You can't stay here."

She looked at him oddly and replied, "Of course I can. With the uniformed presence it's safer than before, and –"

He shook his head. "But for how long?" he pointed out. "They can't be here forever." He looked suddenly nervous as he suggested, "Would you, maybe…stay with me?"

Karura had conflicting urges: she wanted to fling herself into his arms and sob "Yes, I'll stay with you!"…and she wanted to gasp and say, "My goodness, that's not decent at all!"

"Zouchouten, I don't…I don't know, I mean, people might –"

"It's safer there than it is here alone," he told her. "I have a security system that doesn't consist of a cockatoo, for one thing."

She hesitated some more. "Karura, don't tell me you're concerned with propriety _now_," he snapped, patience wearing thin. "The world will just have to deal with it." He glared at the hapless officer who'd shown him in as if the man was the embodiment of a judgmental society.

If this wasn't moving too fast, she didn't know what was. But…he'd offered, and she'd thought about it, and maybe it _was_ too fast, but it was dangerous now and damn it, she _wanted _to stay with him.

So she nodded, squeezing his hand back just as hard. "Yes, Zouchouten. Just let me get a few things."

And soon she found herself loading Garuda's cage into his car (thankfully he had an SUV) and carrying her cockatoo in his carrier. She called Kujaku on the way to the house, informed him where she would be, and hung up when he started to giggle, "Ooh, Skye and Zou-ou, sittin' in tree, kay-eye –"

Kujaku, Karura decided as Zouchouten pulled into his driveway, was a man who could be childish even as things got irreversibly dangerous. He would probably make jokes in the middle of a firefight like some silly action hero, she grumbled in her head.

Zouchouten tossed Karura his keys and hoisted her suitcase, following her up the back sidewalk. Garuda asked "Karura? Karura?" as both humans entered the house, looking around this new environment as Zouchouten headed upstairs, his new housemate trailing him.

She had kind of expected him to go all red and mumble something about how she could have one of the guest rooms, but he opened his bedroom door, put her suitcase on the bed, and said, "I'll clean out half my dresser tomorrow, okay?"

She nodded, rather pleased, and set Garuda's travel carrier down. "Will you help me get his cage in? We can put it in the living room."

He looked very relieved, which she didn't catch because she was already facing away and walking out the door. He ran after her, and they managed to get Garuda's spacious enclosure through the front doorway after a couple tense maneuvers and smashed fingers.

"Ouch." Karura put one to her mouth. "That smarts."

"I'm sorry." He studied her. "Want me to kiss it better?"

Tempted, she nevertheless shook her head. "I have to go get Garuda." Zouchouten followed her up the stairs, into the bedroom to pick up the squawking bird, back down the stairs, and watched intently as she let the cockatoo go back into his space. "There, sweetie," she crooned. "Mommy will give you an extra-special breakfast tomorrow."

"Peanut?" Garuda asked hopefully as Zouchouten started to laugh.

"Yes, baby, you can have a – Zouchouten, are you all right?" She turned to look at him, and he seemed nearly hysterical.

"Yeah…yeah, I'm okay…it's just, I dunno, that seemed incredibly funny for some reason." He tried to calm himself down as she studied him appraisingly.

It was a delayed shock reaction of some sort, she decided. He'd had his workplace blown up, seen one of his employees blinded and in a hospital bed, and his lover had just moved in after she'd been threatened, all in one day.

"Zouchouten, I changed my mind. I need you to get a handle on yourself and make me feel better."

They went back upstairs, and the subsequent enjoyable activities succeeded in distracting him very well indeed.

That night, Kujaku didn't sleep. He talked to witnesses, he talked to Hanranya when she woke up, he talked to anyone and everyone who might have seen something. And he came up with nothing, save that a suitclad man had picked something up from the debris of the Four Gods and walked off with it.

He tried for an ID, but to no avail. He asked if maybe the guy had had red hair, but no, the man had been a brunette, so not Bishamonten North. Koumokuten Oeste? No, Koumokuten had a ponytail and wore only black, and this man had been wearing a blue suit and had been rather pale with short hair, not swarthy and flicking people off.

The agent sighed, thunking his head against his desk. A low-level player, no doubt, and damn it, things were getting bad, and he still had no positive sighting of Taishakuten in the gated community. No sighting of him at Zenmi Industries, either.

As the first rays of the sun began to lighten the sky, Kujaku sighed and stood up. Nothing more he could do now. He'd keep a close eye on Karura and Zouchouten, because he was pretty sure that she was the main target, and now that her boyfriend would no doubt glue himself to her he was in just as much danger as she was. But all Kujaku could do was wait for Taishakuten's next move.

He pondered, as he drove to his apartment, just what that move might be. So far nobody had encountered the crime lord face-to-face, but from what he knew of Taishakuten the mob boss would show up himself at some point. He liked to taunt his prey, after all.

If Kujaku could see him, he might be able to tail him. No doubt King would expect it, but dammit, the man was only human no matter what he liked to think. He would make a mistake at some point. The agent knew that if he did see Taishakuten he'd probably be in deep trouble himself, but come on, there had to be a chance!

_If I start thinking there's no chance, _he told himself as he unlocked his door, gun drawn just in case, _then we lose already. _Kujaku knew the value of positive thinking, perhaps more than anyone besides a therapist. When he believed he could do something, nine times out of ten he could, and even when he couldn't he still made progress.

He turned his lights on, checked everywhere for intruders, then sighed, put down his gun, and changed into his pajamas. He could get by on little sleep, it was a gift. He'd be back at the office in six hours, and then, he mentally proclaimed, he'd be backed up by his team, and they would see things he couldn't.

Maybe Smythe's surveillance would catch Taishakuten strolling down the street in his little rich-guy neighborhood. Maybe Shara would point out an obvious connection that Kujaku had missed. Maybe Just would grin and say, "Hey Ku, I just found a tracking weapon that will find Taishie no matter where he is! And it's no-collateral!"

Kujaku growled and pulled his "Buzz Lightyear" covers over his head. Probably not that last one, for sure.

(AN: Poor Hanranya…Koumokuten sure did a number on you here. And Kujaku has "Buzz Lightyear" covers, yay! He's such a child at heart sometimes. I do happen to be quite the fan of "Buzz Lightyear of Star Command", and I'd thought about giving Ku Mira Nova or Warp Darkmatter covers as a nod to my two favorite characters, but knew most of you would have no idea who they are.)


	21. Joined At The Hip

"Koumokuten…well done," Taishakuten smirked the morning after the bar owner had blown up the Four Gods. "I see your interest in explosives has endured."

"Oh, hell yeah," Koumokuten chuckled, holding a lit cigarette and putting his feet on the table. Bishamonten frowned at this but said nothing. "Best part is, I was in fuckin' Vegas when it blew," the dark man bragged. "Oh man, Z must be having a fit."

"Yes, Oeste. Southland is beside himself, but not…" Bishamonten glared at Koumokuten's feet, "because of the loss of his bar. Our planting of an artifact at Ms. Skye's apartment seems to be making him quite upset."

Koumokuten rolled his eyes. "That's friggin' ridiculous. That broad's the reason all this went down. I mean, damn, I'd like to fuck her too, but c'mon. Get yourself a hooker or something, it's all the same."

All three men nodded, secure in their conclusion that yes, Zouchouten was an idiot for loving someone, when he could get physical satisfaction for very little money or effort indeed. And after all, it was completely Karura's fault that she had caught their attention by seeking justice for her murdered sister. They themselves had _only_ ordered the hit, threatened her, and planted a bomb…and they completely believed this, to a man.

Bishamonten clicked a few keys on his computer. "We can take them out at any time. It might be prudent, because someone's helping them. We did learn that Skye is in contact with a federal agent called," he smirked, "Playboy One."

Koumokuten threw his head back and guffawed at the codename. "Damn, Bish, what does that guy think this is, a dating game?"

"You will address me as 'Bishamonten'," the fed-up redhead snapped, "or 'Mr. North'. Not 'Bish'."

As Koumokuten flipped Bishamonten off, Taishakuten smiled, watching his underlings squabble. Ah, petty rivalries…he encouraged them because they were amusing to watch, and kept his minions from banding together and realizing that he, Taishakuten, was just one man against the many of them. A vastly superior man, but still only one.

"Do not annoy me," Bishamonten was saying. "I can have your daughter Tamara killed at any time, you idiotic, crude excuse for a man."

"Oh yeah?" Koumokuten shot back. "I can take out your wife Kisshouten in a heartbeat, you motherfucking kiss-ass."

Both of them grinned evilly and said in unison, "All right. Do it then." Neither would really care.

Before Koumokuten went for Bishamonten's eyes with his cigarette or Bishamonten pulled a gun on Koumokuten, their boss held up a hand. "Gentlemen." The single, calm word, delivered in a drawling tone, made both of Taishakuten's subordinates look at him.

"That's enough. Now," he nodded to Bishamonten's laptop, "we will return our attention to the problem of Karura Skye. Do we know which agency Playboy One works for?"

"Unfortunately not," Bishamonten murmured. "He covers his tracks well. We do, however, know that his first name is Kujaku, which is unusual enough that we may be able to find him by talking to bystanders."

"What a loser, with a name like 'Kujaku Valentine'," Koumokuten Augustine Oeste muttered, and Bishamonten Mervin North nodded.

Taishakuten Philip King stood up. "I wonder perhaps if it's time to pay Skye and Southland a visit."

Koumokuten took a drag on his cigarette. "Why haven't you just shot both of 'em a while ago anyway?" he asked, the fact that he was throwing his best friend of twenty years to the wolves not too much of a problem by this point. "I mean, c'mon, you took out her sister when she was getting too close to the truth, so why is she still alive now?"

He smirked. "And Z's stuck on her like he's been thermally bonded. He'd probably jump in front of her without a second thought like an obedient, cunt-licking dog."

"Oeste, you are an evil man," the grinning Bishamonten complimented as Taishakuten crossed to the window.

"Because," the crime lord sighed, "I am…exceedingly bored."

Both of his minions looked at him in confusion. Taishakuten had money, women, expensive cars and a couple planes, and could kill his wimp of a son and whore of a wife at any time and trade them in for better ones.

"You see, Bishamonten and Koumokuten," Taishakuten said, still gazing out the window at the world outside, "Karura Skye has provided entertainment. She is so convinced that she will kill me and that she is invincible. It's amusing to watch. Her lover might indeed die happily for her, and this is also entertaining, to know that a man who looks so dangerous is in fact controlled by his overly-romantic heart."

He faced them then. "They are stupid. They run around like ants, thinking their little government friend will protect them. Each of them: Skye, Southland, and Valentine, will be crushed in the end. But for now," he gave them a feral smile, "I want to watch them squirm."

Bishamonten nodded. "All right. Shall we pick off their associates one by one? Monk is blinded, and in a hospital she cannot hope to –"

"Ooh, I've got a couple people I'd just _love _to see dead," Koumokuten volunteered happily. "Employees who give me a hard time."

Taishakuten smiled, an indulgent expression. "Do tell. And who might they be, and why?"

Koumokuten ticked them off on his fingers. "Vahyu Beauchamp: sparkly frickin' fag, enough said. Varuna Salt: moron extraordinaire. Kendappa Oh: not really an employee, but turned me down and kicked me in the balls."

He smirked gleefully. "Any of them would be perfect."

Bishamonten, watching Koumokuten closely, threw out an additional name: "And Aguni Leonidas."

Koumokuten paused, looking at Bishamonten strangely. "Maybe. I don't think we have to –"

Bishamonten purred, "Are you perhaps…suggesting that an associate of Skye's should be spared? After all Oeste, you said yourself that your little picnic had 'sucked major dick because of Aguni'. Now why is that, I wonder?"

The red-faced Koumokuten muttered something about the cook just being a bitch. If he told them she'd tied him up by his belt and made him beg, they'd laugh at him and he would lose all street cred. And then Bishamonten, the bastard, would say something like "_I _would have raped her for payback, but I guess _you're_ too much of a romantic, Oeste."

Nope, Koumokuten decided, he'd take the secret of what had happened in the woods to his grave.

But Aguni was hot. She'd backed off. She hadn't gloatingly told anyone, "I made Koumokuten my bitch!" They'd even had a couple drinks, not to mention done a number of fun things in the storage room, and he was _sure _he could control her if they actually slept together again. He liked her a lot, actually.

But at the same time, this was an obvious challenge. Bishamonten was trying to call Koumokuten's bluff, so the bar owner shrugged, smiling. "Hey, she's no friend of mine," he lied. "Put her on the list too, if you want."

Taishakuten nodded, a grand gesture. "Perhaps one every three weeks? Even two such –" he smirked "– wrapped up in each other lovers will start to notice a pattern. Valentine will no doubt see it instantly, and it will be a message for him more than them. And when I find out who he is…I will bring down anyone and everyone he works with, is friends with, and loves."

Bishamonten stared. The government agent obviously had to killed, and was indeed a worse threat, but he himself was still of the opinion that Karura should be taken care of first.

He shrugged it off as Taishakuten turned to Koumokuten. "And which little nuisance shall go first? I'd value your input, Oeste."

Vahyu immediately came to Koumokuten's mind. Oh, such a fag, with his girly hips and open shirts and disgustingly tight jeans. When he and Zouchouten had interviewed the guy, Vahyu had fluttered his eyelashes at Koumokuten and said, "My, I _love_ tall dark men." Zouchouten, the fucker, had thought that was _funny_,and stopped Koumokuten from hurling a chair at Vahyu. No love lost there.

Koumokuten opened his mouth to say "Kill that manbitch Beauchamp," but then he paused.

Varuna was so abysmally annoying, with his stupid "Ta-daa!" and his dumb headband. He was no doubt too idiotic to figure things out himself, but if he talked to Kujaku the agent could most likely extrapolate an awful lot. Varuna had asked, on the day Zouchouten's Harley had bitten the dust and before it had all hit the fan, why Koumokuten had oil on his hands. Sure, his boss had passed it off as engine trouble of his own and Varuna had believed him, but if he mentioned that to Government Guy…

Then there was precious little Kendappa Oh: damn, a bitch among bitches if there ever was one. She'd kicked Koumokuten in the crotch in front of almost fifty onlookers, and she had to be taken down a couple hundred pegs. Her _and_ her roommate Souma, who had once punched him when he'd made a comment about her friend's chest. _BFF's, or whatever the hell people call it. I hate 'em both no matter what._

Koumokuten grinned. It was nice to be back, and be able to make them all pay.

Kujaku too was in a conference room, but instead of deciding which order to kill people in he was trying his darndest to figure things out and save them.

"Ku," Shara asked him seriously, looking at the whiteboard Kujaku was placing paper cutouts on, "is that really necessary?"

"Yes," he snapped, sticking a chibi Tenou face onto the board. He had spent hours drawing these things out, after all. So, while even the artist Kujaku couldn't make Zouchouten and Koumokuten look cute, he had all the players' faces to look at now.

Sure, he could have stuck actual pictures up, but hey… lightheartedness was a tool to be used in these dark times.

Kujaku stood back. Under a heading of "The Four Gods", chibi Aguni, Hanranya, Karura, Koumokuten, Vahyu, Varuna, and Zouchouten were clustered, with Kendappa and Souma to the side, labeled "Semi-Employee Friends." Zouchouten was next to Karura, and Koumokuten was next to him.

Under "Zenmi Industries", Tenou and Kisshouten, with a quickly scribbled-in "Sylvia Hammer", sat right next to Bishamonten, whose smirk Kujaku was quite proud of.

Under the heading "Yasha and Co.," Yasha (who Kujaku had spent the most time on) protectively hovered over Ashura, who barely needed chibifying at all. Ryuu was on one side of Ashura, and Kahra and Kumaraten were on the other.

Under "Evil Bastard", Taishakuten sat alone, for now. Kujaku would be moving more people under him momentarily. And under "Awesome", Kujaku and Shara, Just, and Smythe were stuck.

Smythe finally managed, "Do we really need your boyfriend and his associates up there?"

Kujaku nodded firmly. "Yes, of course we do. They're important to this story too! …And he's not," he sighed forlornly, "my boyfriend."

Smythe paused, clearly unconvinced and wondering about the "story" metaphor, but let it go.

"Everybody know where they all started out?" Kujaku asked, then before he could get a reply, continued with "Good. So…" he grabbed Bishamonten and stuck him under Taishakuten, "Bishie probably works for King."

He grabbed Kisshouten and put her next to Bishamonten. "Kisshie probably works for King. And Tennie…" he ripped Tenou out of his place and stuck him right beside Taishakuten, "is almost certainly Taishie's son. Probably his perfectly-groomed heir, and Bishamonten's some sorta wise teacher who indulges him. Or maybe is afraid of him.

"Now, we think," Kujaku picked up Koumokuten, "that Koumie here works for King too. After all, the fucker's a nasty guy who used to be a hitman." He stuck Koumokuten emphatically right next to Bishamonten. "North and Oeste probably go way back. Good evil-guy buddies, I'll bet. And maybe Koumokuten moved here because Taishakuten wanted him to."

"But Ku," Shara pointed out, "Oeste's been in this city for twenty years! Taishakuten only moved here last year."

Kujaku frowned at (creepy as hell) chibi Koumokuten. "Well, I dunno. I'm brainstorming here, guys. Now, Koumie also pals around with Zouchouten."

He picked up Zouchouten and put him right back under "The Four Gods". "Zou is not a criminal, or if he is, he and Skye –" he poked Karura "– are the best actors in the world, and we're all as good as dead. But from what I've seen, Zouchouten thinks Koumokuten is a decent man who just happens to be a snarky jerkwad.

"Now, Zou probably has no idea what Koumokuten was. Or maybe he's one of those 'forgive and forget' nutjobs. Either way, I'm worried. If Kou asks him in a veiled way about me, maybe Zou will let something slip. Or, he might _tell_ his buddy about me, thinking he can help too."

Kujaku resisted the urge to crumple up paper Koumokuten. "Of course, it's certainly very possible that we're barking up the wrong tree on Oeste. We've got nothing we can currently use against him, and Twelve thinks I'm overreacting."

He reverently touched Yasha. "Twelve also thinks I'm slacking off on the King angle, and spending too much time on Snugglebunnies."

Smythe, Shara, and Just all stared after hearing "Snugglebunnies", wondering what that was. "Um, Ku," Just finally asked, "what in the bleedin' heck is a 'Snugglebunnies'?"

"Snugglebunnies," Kujaku informed the uneducated masses, "is my personal objective that involves…" he joyfully stuck chibi Kujaku right next to Yasha and slightly on top of him, "…me getting back into Yasha's good graces, his arms, and his bed," he said cheerfully.

Just snorted. "Naughty Kujaku. Concentrate on psychos and bar employees, 'cause I can understand those."

"Ku," Smythe sighed, "we have so little we actually know, and so much speculation."

Kujaku sighed back. "Okay, here's what we know for sure: Karyoubinga Skye was killed, and it wasn't an accident. Her sister digs around while getting freaky with Zouchouten, whose BFF Koumokuten has a record of assault and used to work for Taishakuten.

"Bishamonten is a mofo, and his wife hides away and has a guy who I _know_ is King's son as her assistant. Somebody blew up the Four Gods, blinded Hanranya, and threatened Skye. Meanwhile, _I'm _still trying to get back together with the man I love, who's looking increasingly vulnerable to attack with his adopted son who's far too trusting."

Shara scribbled something on a notepad. "There's a lot of weird coincidences there."

Kujaku groaned aloud and smacked the whiteboard. "I know, it's like a poorly-written fanfic or something."

Just gazed at him oddly. "What?"

Sighing and shaking his head, Kujaku turned away from the fourth wall. "Never mind."

"Hello."

Karura looked up from Zouchouten's mailbox. A wizened, tiny lady wearing a floral headscarf and holding what resembled a brown mop studied her with sharp, faded eyes.

"Oh. Hello there," the younger woman said, friendly because one should always be nice to the elderly. "I'm Karura. Nice to meet you, Ms…?"

"_Mrs_. Ethel Feeny," the old biddy snapped at her. "I see no ring on your finger, Miss. You're going to Hell, I do hope you realize." As Karura stared, startled at the sudden vitriol she'd just encountered, what she'd thought was a mop started to bark at her like she'd set it on fire.

"You girls these days are all hussies," Mrs. Feeny went on. "Filthy. You can't expect a man to be a gentlemen when you prance around with your chest on display."

Karura drew breath to try to bring the other woman's attention to her completely unprovocative hoodie, but it was no use.

"My husband would be rolling in his grave at the way you and Zouchouten carry on," Mrs. Feeny ranted. "It was bad enough you spent so many nights here (and many of the others were no doubt spent at your place), but I see you've moved in now. Little whores like you make the Good Lord sad."

_What the __hell__? _Karura's blue eyes practically spat flames as she took a step towards her verbal attacker.

Mrs. Feeny suddenly stopped her tirade and looked down at her yapping terrier. "Mr. Wiggles, did you piddle? Oh dear. Let's go back inside. Does him want Mama to brush his hair? Does him? Yes, him _does!_" And fussing over the dog like a demented mother hen, she turned and left Karura standing there with her mouth hanging open.

She looked down at the mail in her hands. One of the magazines had a story about the brain changes that caused senility. Sighing, she walked back inside.

Zouchouten was feeding Garuda a peanut in the living room, shirtless and barefoot and looking tired but contented. "Your next-door neighbor just told me I'm a whore," she informed him, handing over "National Geographic", "Newsweek", and six solicitations for money.

"Oh she did, did she." His eyes went flat in anger. "I'm never mowing her lawn again, and I will go over there right now and tell her in no uncertain terms what an absolute bitch she is."

"Bitch!" Garuda imitated cheerfully, but Karura hardly noticed. She was too busy gazing at her lover in shocked surprise. "Zouchouten, she's clearly not all there. She's obviously very unhappy and probably feels like the world has moved on around her to a place she doesn't want to go. Cut her some slack."

"Absolutely not. She has no excuse to treat you like that."

Their gazes clashed in a silent battle of wills, and Zouchouten was the one to surrender first. "Fine then." He spun away, stomping over to his windows and pulling the curtains violently to shut out the world. Turning away and running an exasperated hand though his hair, he wouldn't look at her.

_So this is a spat, _Karura thought dully._ I don't like it at all._

She considered trying to apologize, but damn it, _he _had been the one who was going to go chew out an elderly woman, not her. She suffered through a few more moments of awkward silence before she turned and left the room.

Zouchouten kicked his couch at this, and Garuda tilted his head and watched this display of aggression. Obviously his human's mate had upset her, and the cockatoo hated when Karura was upset.

"Bad," he scolded. "Bad, bad."

Zouchouten frowned and thought about teaching Garuda a few other choice swearwords, but decided not to. Instead he yanked the curtains open and considered flipping off Mrs. Feeny, who he could see trying to hide behind her own curtains.

_No, _he decided, _Karura will really yell at me for that. _He settled for giving his neighbor a vicious smile and going back upstairs, where he put on a shirt and read more of the book he hadn't paid any attention to for months.

As the scowling Zouchouten read about how to make the perfect soufflé, Karura sat down at the kitchen table and sighed. _He's so stupid sometimes. For heaven's sake, Zouchouten, I can take care of myself. Idiotic machismo…it turns modern men into Neanderthals._

She made herself some tea, wondering what she would do with the rest of her day. With her workplace blown to smithereens and Souma and Kendappa no doubt celebrating having saved Hanranya's life in ways that excluded her participation, she had no idea how to occupy herself, what with the spat and all. She had planned to help Zouchouten in the yard or with housework, but damn it all, she was still mad, and Mr. Caveman could sulk all he wanted because she wasn't going to apologize.

She stood up, having had an idea. Why not get out of the house and do something she enjoyed? Some time at a museum alone would be –

But being alone was dangerous. Hmm. Well, what about with a friend?

She called Gigei, who was having a picnic with her husband and really didn't want to talk right now. So then she called Varuna, who was at his nephew's soccer game and of course didn't want to leave.

She considered calling Aguni, who might enjoy "Masters of Marble", the Art Museum of Tenkai City's new exhibition of Roman sculptures of the human form. However, she really didn't want to be asked embarrassing questions like "Have you tied Zouchouten down yet? How big is he? Can I join in?" (No, quite, and absolutely not.)

She sighed, trying one last person. Vahyu was probably off doing something with Eduardo, but it was worth a shot.

He answered on the first ring. "Skye! How are you! How's Zou?"

"He's –" She started to say "being childish" before it hit her that Vahyu had no way of knowing where she was. "I don't know, Vahyu, he's probably fine. I have no idea."

"Oh, you don't have to lie to _me_, Skye. Aguni says you two are, like, joined at the hip." Purposeful pause. "Or at other body parts."

_Dammit, Aguni!_

Karura forced herself to say normally, "That's really nobody's business but our own. Look, Vahyu, I called to ask if you and Eduardo would like to go to the art museum with me."

"I do, but you can forget Eduardo. _I_ have. I mean, the bitch left me for a _woman!_" Vahyu was unable to comprehend this. After all, he was pretty and sexy and while women were great to have as friends, men were just _way_ better as lovers.

"Sorry to hear that."

He sighed. "Well, I'm _so _over him already. When do you wanna go?"

Karura gave the stairs a glare. "As soon as possible."

And so they spent an enjoyable hour and a half at the museum. Karura admired the ancient artists' technical skill, and tried not to think how Zouchouten probably could have pwned any of the warriors and emperors in bare-hands combat. Vahyu admired the female sculptures for their graceful aesthetics, the male sculptures for being halfway or fully nude, and a certain guard for how good he looked in uniform.

When Karura turned to leave, Vahyu held up a hand. "You go ahead, I'll be right there." He walked purposefully over to the square-jawed guard, who watched him strut slinkily forward with an "Oh my God, my dreams are coming true" look on his face.

Karura had to resist the urge to laugh as she waved to the other bouncer and walked off.

_At least one of us, _she thought grumpily a couple minutes later as a beaming Vahyu started his car, having gotten the guard's number, _will be having fun later._

Zouchouten, having heard the door slam as Karura left, had immediately raced down the stairs in a panic. He'd yanked the door open just in time to see another car screech off, and his frantic yells for her to come back apparently hadn't registered, at least not with Karura.

Mrs. Feeny had come out and snapped, "Zouchouten Southland, you just woke up Mr. Wiggles! I'm just surprised a girl like that didn't leave earlier. Now, did she take any –"

He slammed his door shut, wanting very much to tell her to take that fucking dog and go to fucking hell. He resisted because Karura would kill him if he did, and he had to go call Kujaku and tell him she'd been kidnapped.

He practically tripped as he ran into the kitchen, having forgotten that his cell phone was in his pocket. He was reverting back to Army mode, and since he'd been carrying a walkie-talkie back then and didn't have one now, his cell hadn't even entered his mind.

As he grabbed his landline, his eyes fell on a piece of paper. Karura's handwriting.

He picked it up with a shaking hand and read it: she was going to a museum with Vahyu. He then collapsed into a chair, boneless with relief. Good. She was fine, and she wasn't alone.

It then occurred to Zouchouten that _he _was. She obviously hadn't done it on purpose, she hadn't been _that _mad, but she'd clearly been upset enough that the danger had never dawned on her.

So he got up and went over to his gun cabinet. Opening it up and studying his limited choices, a Smith and Wesson and a hollowpoint Beretta, he thought about taking the first one then decided there was no point in messing around. He took out the Beretta, cleaned and oiled it, then loaded it. He made sure the safety was on and hefted the gun.

Ah, yes…it felt good. He'd kept in practice; he and Koumokuten went down to the shooting range an awful lot. He was still a damn competent shot, and if anything threatened him or Karura (or even Garuda, he added mentally) he would bring it down with no regrets whatsoever.

Carrying his firepower, he wandered down to his basement. He'd hit on a way to make himself feel better, and possibly impress Karura so she'd forgive him.

The idea that he might be better served by just apologizing had been shoved to the back of his mind. After all, Mrs. Feeny had insulted his woman's honor, and Karura was being needlessly sentimental. He _had_ gotten a distinct inkling that this wasn't feudal Japan and he wasn't a samurai, but he'd shaken it off.

Zouchouten moved aside a couple boxes and found it: his old, once-beloved acoustic guitar. He carried it upstairs, spent a while cleaning and tuning it, then looked around for a pick.

He was beginning to think they'd all been eaten by his basement when he heard his front door open. Grabbing his gun, he raced up the stairs, yelling "Who's there?"

"Me. Where are you?"

It was Karura. He sighed with relief, stowed the gun, and walked into the living room ready to kiss and make up. One look at her face, however, nixed that idea instantly. She was still scowling, and that made him angry again. "You should have told me where you were going," he lectured. "I was about to call Kujaku."

She paused, realizing for the first time how stupid a move that had been. "I'm sorry, Zouchouten. I was…upset."

"Okay." He seemed to be waiting for something else. She sighed, looked around, and noticed something new.

"I didn't know you played the guitar."

"I used to be rather good at it, believe it or not." His gaze turned melancholy as he stared at the instrument. "I used to have an electric, but I never had time to play it, so I ended up selling it ten years ago. That's actually how I met Kendappa. She needed one and I didn't."

He smiled slightly. "Actually, 'selling it' isn't the correct phrase, more like 'giving it away free to someone who would treat it well'."

Karura gazed at him. "I don't understand you sometimes," she said quietly.

He turned to look at her. "Hmm?"

"The way you act, the things you do…I don't get it."

"Can any of us truly say we can fully understand another person?" he asked, waxing philosophical. "That would be something for the ages."

"You're an enigma. You give away something you love to a complete stranger, but you judge an old woman harshly for being a product of her times?" she asked, a little more bitchily than she'd intended.

"I've been overly nice to Ethel Feeny since I met her. I put up with her incessant demented lectures, I let that moronic rat-dog do something unspeakable to my motorcycle boots without punting it into the stratosphere, and I weeded her lily garden!" he roared, making her step back in something close to fear.

As Karura wondered how to stop this juggernaut of emotions, Zouchouten continued with, "And do you know what, Karura? I would have kept doing so unendingly until she insulted you with her judgmental, vicious, and downright cruel words! And because you told me not to, I still won't –"

She cut him off by grabbing him by the shirt and smashing their mouths together. He seemed a little startled, but certainly didn't complain as she nibbled his lower lip, then drew back.

"Shut up," she told him gravely. He just stared.

"Zouchouten," Karura sighed, "I am not a little girl, all right? Mrs. Feeny is an ancient harpy, but I've dealt with worse people than her. Now, I appreciate your desire to protect me, but really, I can protect myself."

She smiled slightly then. "I can probably even protect you."

He studied her, calming down. "You're no doubt right about that. But Karura, I mean, that woman is insane."

Karura sighed again, sounding resigned. "Senile, Zouchouten. There's a slight difference."

"Senile, then," he muttered. "That's much more polite than Koumokuten's term for her."

She could believe it, but turned the conversation away from Mrs. Feeny. "Why do you think you have to protect me?"

He gave her a "duh" look. "I protect what I love. I even protect what I like. For example, Koumokuten keeps trying to fire poor Vahyu, but I keep persuading him not to, because Vahyu's good and I like him."

Ignoring the Vahyu bit, Karura seized on "I protect what I love". "I love you too, Zouchouten. I understand it, as we are in danger here, but Mrs. Feeny is not going to pull out a grenade and toss it at me."

Zouchouten thought about saying that one could never be sure with that woman, but instead decided to be mature and give in gracefully. "I'm sorry for overreacting, Karura. I do think Mrs. Feeny is cracked, though," he was unable to keep from adding.

Karura smiled, gave him a quick kiss, and then turned and shut the curtains. "Mrs. Feeny can go to hell, but I don't want her getting a glimpse of what I'm going to do."

"And what exactly _are_ you going to do?" he whispered into her hair, holding her around the waist from behind. Great, this apology was leading to make-up sex.

"Something to make Jesus cry that will be mutually enjoyable," she murmured. "Let's go upstairs."

"The coffee table's solid enough." His left hand wandered to a breast and started doing tantalizing things to it. "Why leave?" His mouth on the back of her neck was currently making it very difficult indeed to reply.

"I…oh my…"

"Bad Zouchouten," came a slightly shocked voice from her right, and she glanced over at Garuda, who was fluffed up and looking at them with acute interest.

She was actually surprised that he hadn't picked up interesting phrases like "Ride me, babe" and "Oh yes, _harder!_" as it was. She'd once found him mimicking an orgasmic moan, but a combination of scolding and distraction had made him lose interest in that particular sound.

She pulled away. "Not here, Garuda's watching."

Zouchouten stared openmouthed at her, incredulous. "He's a _bird._"

"He's a sexually mature cockatoo, Zouchouten, and they've been known to get excited. Years ago I convinced him I wasn't a suitable mate, and I really don't want to have to do that again," she lectured as he gazed at her pet, wearing an expression of frustration.

"Dear lord, what did he do?"

"He gave me peanuts and tried to preen me. I nipped that in the bud before it progressed to mating displays and sexual aggression," she explained.

"Now that is just plain strange." He sighed. "You need your own female, buddy," he told Garuda matter-of-factly.

"_Bad_ Zouchouten," Garuda replied in an affronted tone.

Karura stifled the urge to laugh aloud at the look of resigned amusement on her man's face. "Yeah, probably. Shut it, Garuda." He turned back to her. "Fine. Let's use the bed."

"I really should calm him down," she said regretfully, and Zouchouten groaned. "I'm upset about the loss of table sex already. What are you trying to do, kill me? Besides," he pointed out, "giving him attention now will just reinforce the idea that he can be a brat."

"You can't die from orgasm denial, Zouchouten. It's a medical fact. But," she pulled him with her to the stairs, "Garuda _does _need to get used to you touching me, and _I _got excited myself. Let's take care of that problem right now."

"Bad _Karura_," Garuda said to himself quietly. "Bad bad Karura."

(AN: AU Vahyu Beauchamp is just so fun to write, and I love him. I liked canon Vahyu well enough too, in an "I wonder how he's gonna die?" way. Oh, bragging that you suffered Yasha's attack _on purpose_ to gather data…silly stuck-up Wind God.

Mrs. Feeny's bitchiness is based off every nasty old Christian lady I've ever encountered. Ya know biddies, Jesus was all about love, not hate. Soapbox aside, Ethel Feeny is clearly a nutter: she likes her neighbor well enough but at the first sign of naughty business she goes whacko. One has to wonder what she did when she encountered his best friend Koumokuten face-to-face. And what Koumokuten did in response, really.

Oh, and Kujaku apparently has the power of fourth-wall recognition, like…like Deadpool, or something. Why? Well, 'cause he's awesome like that. Don't worry, he won't suddenly turn to the reader and chuckle, "Wasn't that a clever pun the author just made?" Nope, just this scene and he's done.

The next chapter contains (drum roll)…Shashi! She's been pretty absent for most of this fic, but the next installment goes in-depth into her reasons for…well, everything she does, really. I must confess: I almost love her. Yes she's kind of a ho, but seriously, she has guts to plot against a guy like Taishakuten, and her ruthlessness is, in canon, unequaled by anyone.

Plus: Bishamonten, being a cool, badass customer. And, um…sex. We don't see it, but two pairs of people do get it on (and not Karura and Zouchouten either). One of these couples hasn't had any action yet. Who? Stick around.)


	22. Please Don't Go

Karura _liked _living with Zouchouten, not just because she could spend even more time with him. Having a whole house to wander around in instead of an apartment was great. The kitchen was wonderful, she could cook more elaborate things if she wanted (they usually did so together), and there was plenty of exercise equipment.

Despite all the danger, she was very happy there. Garuda settled in, Zouchouten gritted his teeth and said "Hi Ethel" to Mrs. Feeny, and Kujaku called to check up on them.

Karura wondered one day, horrified by the idea, what would happen if they broke up. She wasn't naïve, and she knew things couldn't be this passionate forever. Relationships took work, after all. But the thing was, she _wanted_ it to last forever. Maybe she should tell him that… or might that be too bold?

And right then Zouchouten came into the room and interrupted her train of thought. She just decided, _Well, we'll have time. When all of this is over maybe he'll ask me to stay with him. Maybe I should __let__ him ask me. I'm probably moving too fast. _

_Even so, if he doesn't ask me to stay I'll suggest it myself, damn it. I love the man, after all, and he clearly loves me. Then Koumokuten can whine about it all he wants, and I can just kiss Zouchouten in front of him until Koumokuten blows a blood vessel in jealousy._

Yes, she told herself, she would wait. So she let it go and concentrated on being safe and on what she was doing right then (figuring out where to next go jogging, and which guns to take).

Tenou too was concentrating on the present. His mother was talking to him on the phone, and no matter how he hinted that he had to get back to work Shashi would have none of it.

"Oh _sweetie_," she was saying right now, "your father will be so _proud _that you helped with that merger! He does the same _thing!_"

_Yeah, merging gangs, c'mon now. _"Gee Mother, that's…great." Tenou had long ago given up trying to make Shashi admit what her husband was. In fact, Tenou had the distinct sense that his mother urged his father on in his criminal dealings. But he danced around the subject and pretended to be hopelessly stupid and trusting, because it made her happy.

And he loved her. She was a bitch to everyone, she cheated on Taishakuten, and she lied to her son, but she was still his _mother. _She was the most important woman in the world to –

Actually, that wasn't true. She hadn't been for months. Tenou then realized that, given a choice between his boss and his mother, he would take Kisshouten in a split-second. He would take Kisshouten even if she never smiled at him again. He would take Kisshouten even if Shashi _did _say, "Tenou honey, I've been lying to you and sleeping around, but that changes today. I'll help you save the world, baby. I'll auction my jewelry to save the rainforests."

He responded to her chatter on autopilot. Goodness…did he really love Kisshouten that much? The answer came back instantly: a resounding "yes". He knew he loved her, he knew he liked her, he knew he wanted her in every way. He just hadn't yet realized that he'd happily jump off a skyscraper if she told him to.

It was a scary thought, so why was he standing there, flushing red, a huge smile growing on his face? This was bad. Bishamonten would kill him in a heartbeat, and – 

"Bishamonten says you're just _so _helpful to Kisshouten, dear. That's so _nice_," Shashi was saying, yanking him back to the conversation.

He looked down at his desk so he wouldn't be staring at Kisshouten down the hallway. "I'm…I'm glad he thinks so, Mother."

"Yes sweetheart, he's such a _wonderful _man –"

A vision of Bishamonten in Kisshouten's office, his hand around her neck as she sat frozen in loathing, flashed into Tenou's mind.

"– and he just thinks you've been such an _asset_ to him. You know, helping his wife in her little _job_."

He protested, "Mother, Ms. North runs a conglomerate. She's the CEO. It's a very important –"

"Oh Tenou dear," Shashi clucked, "she _thinks_ she's so important, but really, she _neglects_ him at home. She _sleeps_ in that office, you know."

He did know. He was very glad that Kisshouten had at least one place where Bishamonten couldn't totally control her. "Well, Mother, she's just so…busy," he said lamely. "There's a lot to do here."

"Hmm. She still shouldn't avoid _dear _Bishamonten. He gets _lonely_."

She started to say something else, then turned the conversation to what she would wear to a party next week. Her son had a pretty good idea of what Shashi might have said: "He has to turn to _me._"

Tenou rather wished he would. Tenou wished Bishamonten would leave Kisshouten alone and spend all his time romping around with Shashi, and then if he was lucky, the other man would get caught in the act by a fed-up Taishakuten and killed on sight. The crime lord's son was aware of how odd that was, that he'd gone from wanting Bishamonten to leave his mother alone to wanting Bishamonten to leave his boss alone, the woman the second-in-command was married to, and fool around with Shashi.

Things had changed.

And, as Tenou finally managed to get Shashi to hang up, he realized that, because things had changed, there was only one thing he could possibly do now.

As Shashi talked to Tenou, Karura was indulging in a very guilty pleasure: she was watching a certain soap opera ("Love In A Time Of Grown Children").

"Oh, Susan! I love you more than anything else in the entire world, Susan!" the man proclaimed onscreen, embracing the woman.

"Oh, Christopher! I love you just as much!" she replied fervently, running her hands through his graying hair. Karura beamed; this was going to be a good episode. Christopher had just been told he'd be going on a month-long business trip to –

A sudden chuckle made her whip around from her leaning-forward, intently-engrossed-in-the-protagonists position. Zouchouten was standing right behind her, and he seemed to think this was one of the funniest things ever.

"Oh. Um. Hello, Zouchouten." Karura quickly turned the daytime drama off. "I was just flipping through channels."

"Uh-huh." He smirked, obviously not buying it. "Flipping pretty slowly there, Karura."

She glared. He didn't have to be so sarcastic and correct. "Zouchouten, I didn't make fun of you when you made those cookies, you know."

"Touché." He walked over so he was right in front of her, then smiled. "Actually, I think I can make it up to you."

She paused in the act of setting the remote down. "And…how might you do that?"

"Karura," he beamed, "let's go out to a restaurant tonight, okay? A nice one."

She smiled up at him. "Oh, like Asparagus Garden? I _am _in the mood for some –"

He shook his head. "No, not exactly. Actually, I, er…I made us a reservation at that French restaurant a few months ago. You know, the one where you have to show up in formalwear to be let in."

"I don't own a dress," she protested weakly.

"Who cares? I don't own a tux. Wear some nice pants and that one fancy shirt I like and I'll rent my damn tuxedo and nobody'll care." He looked embarrassed. "I meant to tell you a week ago, but with everything going on, I just forgot. I mean, if you'd rather stay here I understand, but –"

"Zouchouten, most women need a week just to pick out what they'll wear to a place like that!" she said in exasperation, then took pity on him. "But I'm not most women, and I want to see you in a suit anyway." She smiled. "You're just lucky I have some nice jewelry and heels that match the shirt."

Three hours later, as Zouchouten went to pick up his tux (he'd made arrangements a while ago, and Karura found it annoying that he hadn't mentioned this little outing to her then), she got out her silk shirt. It was a _nice _silk shirt, pale spring green with a form-fitting bodice and loose, gathered sleeves. Zouchouten only knew she had it because he'd seen it hanging up one day and asked, "Can I see you in that?"

She'd obliged him, wearing jeans and sneakers, but he'd thought she looked "delectable" in it. And she really did, as it emphasized her waist and breasts, showing enough cleavage that she could wear a pendant and have it fall into said cleavage.

So she put it on and added her jewelry, then did something different with her just-blow-dried hair: she braided the long ponytail part. By the time she'd finished putting on her makeup, Zouchouten had come back and was knocking on the door, saying, "We really should go now."

Karura opened the door and stared. She was used to seeing him in jeans and a casual top, occasionally a nicer shirt and more often than not various states of undress. She had thought that it should be impossible for someone of Zouchouten's physique to look nicer in formalwear than he did wearing nothing but boxers and giving her a "c'mon over here right _now_" smirk… but apparently he liked to show impossible who was in charge every now and then.

He led her outside, into the garage, and opened the car door like some sort of valet. "You're absolutely gorgeous," he told her in frank admiration.

Although she didn't own a dress, Karura did possess a flattering wrap skirt that revealed enough toned leg to make people stare longingly but not enough for old ladies to get offended at. Mrs. Feeny probably would have managed it, though, as her neighbor was wondering if he'd make it through dinner without having to drag Karura into the coatroom or something.

_Oh yes you will. Tonight's about the romance and violins, not the sex._ And he was looking forward to it. Karura deserved the violins, and he actually felt kind of bad that he hadn't tried something like this before. Sure, he'd once given her flowers, and she'd thanked him for the roses before she put them on a table and quite forgot about them, being much more concerned with other things she liked him to do.

_I can be romantic. No really, I can! Hell, I'll buy her anything she wants._

She, on the other hand, thought he was doing just fine already. He had a habit of telling her he loved her, he never talked down to her, and he was considerate and sweet and loved gazing into her eyes like he was looking at something he couldn't live without.

Still, dinner would be nice; they could sit and have a conversation in full view of the world, and if she was lucky the waiter might say something like, "Oui madame, your dining partner is so very obviously in love with you. Anyone can tell."

Plus, and she'd always felt a little ashamed of this as a no-nonsense tough woman, she _liked _dressing up. It wasn't very practical for every day, but for tonight, it felt good. Zouchouten obviously knew she was tough, and he liked that, so it was okay to put on a skirt and heels she couldn't run in, and wear jewelry that could be ripped out of her ears and off her neck.

Of course, she _was _carrying her gun in her purse, but nobody but the two of them had to know that.

High above the rest of the city, Kisshouten had just shut her laptop down and was starting to stand up when a knock came from the door.

She frowned. It wasn't a heavy-handed pounding like Bishamonten's (when he bothered to knock at all), it wasn't a firm rap like Sylvia's, and it wasn't the professional knock of security. Instead it was a gentle tapping, like that of someone who was trying to be polite but had something rather urgent on their mind.

She cocked her head to the side. Tenou? He might knock like that…but he was home, he'd left two hours ago, and he wouldn't be waiting outside her door with roses on bended knee like she'd once dreamed about.

"Come in," she called, expecting perhaps a manager or an executive who'd been staying late finishing up an important document.

The door opened, and while it was indeed her assistant, he was not bearing flowers or chocolates or spouting romantic sonnets. "Hi. Can I come in?" He seemed quite fidgety.

"Of _course _you can come in, Tenou," she smiled. "You must have finished that report and wanted to drop it off, yes?"

He dropped his suit jacket and didn't even seem to notice. "I…well, you see, this isn't a business call."

He was flushing, and her own cheeks were rapidly darkening. "Then why are you here, Tenou?" she whispered, both scared of and hoping for his likely answer. "Bishamonten will… if you… why?"

Tenou inhaled deeply, stepping right in front of her and looking very nervous. "I'm… here because…I'm here because… Kisshouten, I'm in love with you!" he blurted out, then looked shocked at his own audacity.

She found that her heart was pounding and that she couldn't breathe. He reached a hesitant hand out, and touched her face so gently that she wanted to cry. She knew, of course she knew, but having him admit it to her was a different situation altogether.

"I really want to kiss you, Kisshouten," he whispered, his gaze open and honest. "May I?"

She found her voice then. "Oh yes. Yes, you may." He moved his lips to hers, and it was chaste, and it was inexperienced, and it was so reverent that her head swam.

Finally he pulled back, looking at her like she was something he desperately wanted but could never have. "I know about Bishamonten, I know what he's capable of, and I know you're married to him, but I…I just can't –"

"Bishamonten and I are husband and wife in name only," she whispered. "I don't love him. He doesn't love me. But Tenou," she took a deep breath of her own and said softly, "I do love _you._"

His smile was like a sun. "You do? Really? You mean, you actually…"

"Yes, Tenou," she murmured, a hand coming up to trace his cheek. "I love you." Her gaze locked on his, she whispered, "You may kiss me again, if you wish."

"I do. Oh God, I do…"

Nearly minute of blissful, sweet liplock (no tongue) later, he pulled back reluctantly and picked up his suit jacket. "I should go. I mean, like you said, if he finds out –"

"Tenou…" She stared at him helplessly. He'd melted her façade of ice and she was never going to be the same, and it was going to get dangerous, and did that matter by now, really?

"Tenou, please don't go. Stay with me." It was a heartfelt plea.

He looked at her for long moments, and then he dropped his jacket back to the floor. "All right, Kisshouten."

It was consent.

The waiter's name was Nigel. Here in this fancy French restaurant that looked like a movie set, Karura thought it was odd that the man hadn't used something like "Gaston" and spoken with an affected French accent. He seemed British instead.

But he was haughty enough. He'd glanced a bit pointedly at her lack of evening gown, but one look at the man whose arm she'd been on had made him hold his tongue. Even if he was in formalwear, nobody wanted to mess with Zouchouten if they could help it.

Nigel was currently asking him, "And what will you have to drink, sir?"

Karura thought it was a bit rude that just because she was less intimidating, Nigel was ignoring her and dancing attendance on Zouchouten, who was studying the wine list.

"Well, I suppose we'll have…" His face lit up. "Oh, Cailloux and Coccinelle. We'll take a bottle of that," he told the waiter as Karura's eyes widened almost comically at the exorbitant price.

"Zouchouten," she hissed as Nigel moved off, "you could buy a computer for that amount of money!"

"Karura, Cailloux and Coccinelle is a treat. It'll be worth every penny," he told her, taking a sip of water as she considered how to reply to such idiocy.

All she came up with was "I never figured you for a wine snob."

"Hey, I own a bar. It's my job to know all about alcohol. Now relax. It's fine. You'll love it," he soothed.

"I would have been fine with sparkling juice," she muttered, but nodded.

He studied her. "Yes, you would have. Expensive things aren't really a draw to you, are they?"

"I appreciate quality, but buying something just to impress someone is silly," she said firmly. He put his water down in resignation, thinking _Cancel that diamond pendant then, Zouchouten. She'd probably strangle you for spending money on rocks. _He sighed. _Good thing I was still in the negotiation phase with the jeweler._

"Yes…quality is important." He grinned then, looking devilishly handsome in his tuxedo, she thought. "I like quality things and people in my life."

He reached out a hand fondly and covered one of hers. "And if that waiter ignores you like that any more, I am going to –"

"You'll let me handle it," she reminded him firmly.

After a while, Nigel reappeared. "Here is your wine, sir," he said, reaching over Karura and setting the bottle down in front of Zouchouten, completely ignoring her again. "Now, sir, our specials this evening are –"

"I would like to hear this evening's specials as well, Nigel." Karura's firm, assertive voice made him turn. "Do not pretend you can't see me."

The waiter glanced at Zouchouten as if to ask his permission to acknowledge his underdressed arm candy, but the bigger man was grinning with his eyes fixed on Karura, an evil smile.

"No. Do not look at him like he owns me," she continued. "If you cannot give me the same respect you give him, you will get no tip and I will request another waiter."

The tables around them were all shamelessly staring, a couple other people smiling evilly as well.

"Is that clear, Nigel?" she asked, voice dripping with ice.

He bowed. "Indeed it is, madam. Now, our specials tonight…"

Having ordered their dinners, Karura and Zouchouten watched Nigel walk off, then turned and smirked at each other.

He lifted his glass. "To Karura Skye: the strongest and loveliest quality woman I've ever laid eyes on."

She smiled proudly and toasted him back. "And to Zouchouten Southland, who looks irresistible in a tux."

They laughed and touched their glasses, taking a sip of the wine. And he was right, she thought: it was worth every penny.

Of course, it could have just been the company.

Even as his wife committed adultery with his boss's son, Bishamonten was about to commit adultery with Tenou's mother. Smirking as he walked down an expensive hallway, Taishakuten's most loyal minion thought that really, it was so nice that young Tenou was out of the mansion, because Shashi kept hovering over him.

_Silly woman. Nothing you do will make that nancy an underworld lord._

His expert manipulation of Kisshouten's bleeding heart had paid off very well. After Tenou had walked in on Bishamonten and Shashi in the drawing room months ago, the older redhead had come up with his brilliant plan to get the boy out of his hair. Kisshouten had merely been told that weak, pathetic little Tenou wanted a job, and her compassionate instincts had done the rest.

_Weak and pathetic indeed…_

Bishamonten, when Tenou was four, had smiled at the small boy and murmured, "Why, someday you'll be just like your father, won't you?" Little Tenou had looked at him in fear, big green eyes wide, and hidden behind his mother as Bishamonten had blinked in surprise.

Obviously, he'd been wrong about the child. He'd often thought that perhaps a crash course in felonies would improve Tenou's odds, but by now Bishamonten at least had grasped the fact that Taishakuten's son was not cut out for being a crime lord.

_Such a fool. I still can't comprehend why Taishakuten hasn't gotten rid of him by now._

Bishamonten shrugged slightly, admiring himself in the hallway mirror. Well, far be it from him to question Taishakuten. Perhaps his boss was amused by the boy. Taishakuten did enjoy being entertained by other people's shortcomings.

That was the only reason, Bishamonten was aware, that Shashi's affairs were allowed. That was the only reason his own affair with Shashi was encouraged, really. He'd served Taishakuten well, and Taishakuten had generously decided that his second-in-command should be rewarded.

That was good, because Bishamonten had felt very cheated indeed when he'd had to tell her at first, "I don't think this is a good idea," and walk out while she glared after him, nude but for her heels. Ah, but now…

He was quite certain (and he was completely correct) that Shashi had attempted to seduce him as a power play. She was no fool. Taishakuten was still mortal, and if he were to be suddenly killed his wife would be in trouble. Of course she knew what to do with a gun, and knew a lot about crime, but really, she didn't kill people herself and had angered many of Taishakuten's higher-ups –

"Bish? We're playing cards. Wanna join in and lose to me?" Koumokuten grinned, sticking his head out of the dining room while Rudra Cloudson waved behind him.

Bishamonten sighed, annoyed. Why couldn't that moron find a hotel while he was supposed to be in Vegas? Why did he have to be put up _here _for three weeks?

"No," he snapped. "I know you cheat, you nicotine-addicted slimeball."

"Rudra," Koumokuten muttered through his broad smile, "Bish is just jealous I won a thousand dollars off him twenty years ago."

Rudra grinned too. "That doesn't surprise me, Oeste. You're good at so many things, man."

Bishamonten considered having Rudra take a tumble off a bridge later. The younger hitman had attached himself to Koumokuten, and now Bishamonten was dealing with two sources of backtalk and insults. In Rudra's case they were veiled, in Koumokuten's case they were completely exposed.

"Rudra," Bishamonten murmured, "don't let him deal." He turned away and climbed the stairs, walked down the hallway, and opened Shashi's door without knocking.

As he stepped into her bedroom, he congratulated himself on being so clever. After all, Shashi's machinations could lead to problems for Taishakuten, but now that he, Bishamonten, had the woman eating out of his hand he could spot such potential problems from a mile away. He could control her, he was sure.

"Hello, Shashi."

At the sound of his voice, she looked up, smirking. Closing what he thought was Fashion For The 2010s but what was actually Machiavelli's The Prince (she'd switched the covers), Shashi murmured, "Well hello, Bishamonten. Wine?"

She held out a goblet of Madeira, which he accepted as his due. "Reading about the latest trends, Shashi?"

"Well, you know, some of them are quite…classic, you might say," she purred, picking up her own glass.

Bishamonten didn't notice her smirk as she sipped the wine. "I see."

"Yes."

As Bishamonten sipped his own wine and obviously wondered how long he should wait before he put it down and got naked, Shashi herself wondered how much longer it would take before she could broach the subject of "Bishamonten, Taishakuten is such a terrible man. Maybe you and I should overthrow him."

She grinned in her head. Why, she was just as competent as her husband, and she'd actually been the one to suggest that Bishamonten seduce Kisshouten years ago. And now, with that stupid woman's company being controlled by Taishakuten more each year, even Taishakuten had had to admit that Shashi had been helpful.

And she really was tired of him ordering her around. She hated being subordinate to such a man, when she herself knew all about running his empire. All she needed was an ally strong enough to join her in open rebellion. A couple other higher-ups, unbeknownst to Bishamonten, had already pledged their allegiance.

Still, she mused, Bishamonten would be the best possible partner for such a power bid. And if she got tired of him, she'd shoot him too after he'd assisted her with killing Taishakuten.

Shashi knew, of course, that Bishamonten was fanatically loyal. However, he seemed unable to stay away, and while she was aware that he thought he could control her, cracks were beginning to appear in his impenetrable façade.

_Men…so weak, all of them. Give them your body and they think they own you, when really, you can own them. _

She decided that it might only take a few more years. And maybe by that point her husband would die anyway, leaving his assets and empire to be fought over. Well, she would win. If Bishamonten was left alive she'd win by virtue of their affair, and if he wasn't she would simply come out on top over all those pathetic, in-fighting hitmen. After all, she had some under her sway already.

And then Tenou could be shipped back to college when Shashi was in charge, as that poor naïve boy couldn't be allowed to see his mother as a crime queen. He'd have served his purpose, she mused coldheartedly, as insurance. She did rather like him in her own way, but the little darling would never be a criminal, she'd made certain of _that._

Shashi smiled at Bishamonten, a practiced "I'm just a harmless, horny slut" expression, and he smiled back, eyes cold but clearly anticipating enjoyable adult activities.

She put her glass down. "Bishamonten, I think that's enough wine, don't you?"

The lights dimmed automatically in Zenmi Industries. In the room Kisshouten used to sleep in, the languid CEO stroked her assistant's hair tenderly as his mouth still moved, wandering over her skin like that of a baby animal.

She had been dead _certain_ that she would have been unable to find pleasure in actual sex after what she'd been through, but the two experiences could not have been more opposed. Bishamonten had used her cruelly, getting off on his control of her.

But Tenou…_Tenou_ had been careful, considerate, and more concerned with her pleasure than his. Although acquainted with the mechanics, he'd obviously never performed the act itself, and had applied himself to learning her body with studious, reverent enthusiasm.

He'd asked questions like "Do you like when I touch you there?" and "Should I keep doing that?", and he'd been embarrassed and shy and so damn _cute_.

But what now? How could she endure Bishamonten again after what had just happened?

_I will endure him because I have to. I won't let my Tenou put himself in danger for me._

And he _would_. He would confront her husband, and call the police, and tell his father in no uncertain terms that he and Kisshouten were leaving if she didn't tell him not to, and he'd wind up shot. Or maybe just locked in Taishakuten's well-defended mansion for the rest of his life.

She looked down at him. "Tenou?"

"Pretty," he whispered, three-quarters-asleep. She kissed his temple and drifted off herself.

(AN: Kisshouten's line of "Bishamonten and I are husband and wife in name only" is actually taken from "Rg Veda" Volume Five. Just so you know; couldn't pass it up. Take that, later canon!

Anyway, more sex. I warned you, didn't I? And guess what: there will be even _more_ naughty business in the next chapter, with bondage. Those of you into such things will giggle gleefully…or maybe not. You'll just have to wait and see.

And we saw Shashi's motivations for sleeping around here. I told you she was dangerous, didn't I? That scene was a rather late addition to this fic, but I think a necessary one. It explains a lot, I hope. Shashi vs. Bishie… this should be interesting.

Is it bad that I ship them? Like, so much I'm currently writing a fic where they're the main couple? Oh no doubt. It makes no sense at _all_, but I ship them.

Quite contrary to affairs for power, Susan and Christopher from the soap opera Karura was watching are a nod to my parents. They've been married 27 years, go Mom and Dad!

Just a warning: the next chapter is the darkest. Be prepared.)


	23. You Were Good

About a week after Tenou's confession to Kisshouten, Aguni had a phone call. Putting down her weights and walking into her kitchen clad in a sports bra and bike shorts, she grinned as she listened to the message in progress.

"Hey. This is your boss. I'm back in town. Look, I was…I was kind of wondering if you might wanna do something tonight."

She smirked. _I knew Koumokuten would seek me out again. No man who has tasted the pleasure of Mistress Aguni can resist for very long._

"…So I was thinking about the woods. I was kinda hoping we might, you know, reenact that little experience, except maybe change it up a bit? …Aw hell, are you there? You're not just listening to me talk while giggling, are you?"

She shook her head. She was in fact shrieking with triumphant laughter.

"Right. Well, listen, if you're interested," she could hear the smirk in his voice, "I'll have my phone handy. Call me, okay? Babe." He was gone.

A victorious Aguni left him hanging for a couple hours as she went about her day. Clad in dominatrix heels and a corset, she finally returned poor, desperate Koumokuten's call. He answered on the twelfth ring, the lazy fool, she thought fondly.

"Aguni. Hey. Get my message?"

"Oh yes. You may come over here now."

Pause. "Well, you know, I love outdoor sex, and I was kinda hoping we might go back to the –"

"You will come here," she ordered happily. _And I'll use my new cuffs._

"Now look, _babe –_"

It was too much, Aguni thought, to expect such a man to immediately assume the role of her slave. After all, Koumokuten had been used to being in charge for years. She'd let it slide for now, but any further slipups would be disciplined.

He was still talking: "Aguni, I have to tell you, I think you're hot as hell. I mean, look, I'll happily go down on you some more if we go back to the woods, provided you make me happy too."

She thought about this. She could, after all, bring the cuffs with her. And his offer was exciting; she had a few ideas already.

"All right, Koumokuten. We will meet there in half an hour."

"Great!" She could hear the happy anticipation in his voice. "The park's closed, but we can just hop over the damn barrier…and I can guarantee it'll be mutually good."

Almost two hours later found a smirking Aguni placing a spiked heel on Koumokuten's chest. "You liked that," she purred.

"Oh hell yeah." He gave her a satisfied grin that she could easily make out in the gathering dusk. "You're hot, Aguni. Talented too."

She pressed down, breaking the skin and smiling at the sight of blood. "You will address me as 'Mistress'. I told you that. You were able to remember before."

_Ow. _He nodded frantically. "Sorry, Mistress." The last word was given the barest tinge of anger, but she didn't notice.

She nodded imperiously. "I will unlock your cuffs now," she informed him, as if such a thing was a fabulous gift.

"Hey, that'd be great. Mistress," he added quickly, before she stabbed him again with that damn heel. She freed him and he sat up, rubbing his bruised wrists. _Second damn time…_

"You know, I do have a condom in my pants pocket," he told her, smiling. "If you let me get it, maybe you can ride me if you want, you absolute _goddess_."

She considered this. He'd picked up his role fast, so she decided to be benevolent. "You may get it."

The sound of a car door slamming in the distance made her look away for a moment. That was funny, the park was closed. Maybe someone else was –

"You were good. I'm sorry babe."

Aguni turned a confused look to Koumokuten, and a shot shattered the night.

He watched her fall and heaved a sigh. Sure, she'd been a sicko with a skewed view of gender relations, but…damn. He'd liked her. Been pretty fond of her, really. He'd even once considered asking her to dinner, and he _hated _romantic dinners.

He reached out and closed her eyes. "I really am sorry, Aguni."

Koumokuten picked up his pants and thought. Things had now turned almost completely around. Twenty years a normal, almost responsible citizen, six months a criminal again…telling, really. He had the distinct sense that he wouldn't feel too bad about this later.

But for now a tiny, residual wisp of a conscience told him, "That was damn evil." He buckled his belt and started to button his shirt back up, gun still smoking on the ground next to him. He'd seduced a woman who had once told him over tequila, "Koumokuten, I like you much better than Zouchouten," then killed her only after he'd gotten what he wanted.

But damn it all, Taishakuten had said "Kill Leonidas," and Bishamonten had watched Koumokuten like a starving hawk, just _waiting _to punish him if he failed. As Koumokuten wrestled his shoes back on, he reflected that Bishamonten had looked disappointed when his rival had nodded.

He looked at his victim's body at his feet, wondering what to do. Well okay, he knew he'd leave her to be found as a warning, but he'd never encountered this particular situation before. What did a hired killer do when faced with such a problem?

Grin and kick her body for the heel to his sternum? Bend down and kiss her like a pansy, sighing, "It was not to be, my lover"? Send an anonymous email to her parents telling them, "She didn't even know what hit her. She didn't suffer"?

He grabbed those stupid cuffs and carried them over to the opposite side of the clearing, hurling them as far out into the river as he could. A broken splash and they were gone.

Success. They'd wash up miles downriver, if they ever washed up at all.

He turned back, picked up his jacket, and stood over the body of the friend he'd just had very good outercourse with, staring at her once more. Then he bent down again.

Koumokuten touched Aguni's cheek, picked up his gun…and crushed that last trace of a conscience out. From now on he was Black Lucifer again, no bones about it, and he'd take what he wanted.

He turned on his heel, and left her there. _Now, Bish…I've shown you what I can do. No going back now, Bitchamonten. I've become what I need to be._

Down near the barrier to the parking lot, Bishamonten himself smiled with dark enjoyment. "Jensen, make sure Ms. Leonidas's car is never found. On second thought," he decided, "take it back to the safe house. It's a lovely machine, and I may use it myself, with new paint and a different license plate of course."

Breaking into Aguni's Corvette didn't take long at all. As Taishakuten's second-in-command watched the taillights disappear into the distance, Koumokuten appeared, holding a pistol. There was a rather unnerving gleam in his eyes, and he looked annoyed to see his rival.

"Bish. Fancy seeing you here."

Bishamonten glared at him. "You were gone for an awfully long time, Oeste. What were you doing, if you only killed her now?"

"Oh, you know," Koumokuten lied, "just showing her who's boss."

In a family restaurant the next morning, Kujaku put down his phone and frowned. He'd been making a habit of calling anyone he thought might be in danger from Taishakuten, since he couldn't protect them all. Souma and Kendappa were with three guards so they were okay, but Zouchouten and Karura were still running around town like it was a holiday.

Sure, Karura's car now had a tracking device plus the camera, and yes, they'd assured him they both had guns, but seriously, people were going to die. Kujaku knew this. Taishakuten was playing with him, he was sure, and the crime lord liked sick games.

He looked over at Yasha, who was telling Ashura to drink his bone-building milk, because calcium was _important. _

_If you die, Yasha, I'll go crazy…_

The restaurant had a kids' menu, and the agent had whined that _he _wanted Happy Face Pancakes too, and Ashura had egged him on until an exasperated Yasha had told the server, "Fine, and stupid pancakes for the adult six-year-old as well." But now, even though he'd just been giggling with the kiddo, Kujaku wasn't feeling happy at all.

Because someone was off the grid. Aguni Leonidas hadn't answered his call: not last night, not this morning, and not the second time this morning either. It was worrisome.

Kujaku scowled into his coffee. But he'd _warned _everyone. He'd explicitly told them to keep their phones handy and not be alone. Still, people were stupid and prideful. Karura's face flashed into his mind then, and he shook his head.

She wasn't stupid, but she _did _think she could go off and not need a protective unit. Well, okay, her man was probably a protective unit all by himself, but if Kujaku had his way they'd both be sitting in a guarded fortress with anti-aircraft turrets. He never enjoyed seeing people die, and he _liked _Skye, darn it.

She was his _friend. _Heck, even Zouchouten was tolerating him peacefully by now. The guy had made him a cake in a gesture of goodwill, dammit, and nobody who made Kujaku a cake could be allowed to die!

And, he vowed, they would _not _die. He would protect them. He was Jesus, after all. He'd once saved an entire small town, he'd survived going off a bridge, and he would get Taishakuten. He would get him, he would get his sadistic second-in-command, and he would make damn sure they were put on trial so the world would know what they'd done.

And then after Kujaku had triumphed, he would show Yasha his badge and crow, "Look what _I _did!" Yasha would of course be shocked, Kujaku thought proudly, because Playboy One was so good at being mysterious. But the teacher would grin and say "Good _job, _Kujaku!" and pat him on the back.

Kujaku could then offer to teach Yasha more self-defense and how to shoot a gun, and when they were all alone in the shooting range, with romantic music playing and maybe a plush carpet, Kujaku could –

He beat that line of thought into submission and threw it under a train. Now was not the time! Now, he told himself firmly, was the time to eat his pancakes and smile at Ashura and make Yasha think everything was hunky-dory, and to make darn sure he did everything possible to keep them safe.

And Zouchouten and Karura safe. Good lord, they'd gone out to a restaurant last week! A restaurant with a giant glass window and a waiter who for all they knew could have been an assassin! Kujaku would have to have a word with them about doing silly things like that.

He wasn't jealous, he assured himself. Just because Zouchouten had bought Karura some great wine and Karura had looked all happy when they'd come back to the car, and Yasha had had to be manipulated into buying Kujaku funny pancakes…no, he was totally cool with that angle. He was _mature. _

He reached over for a straw, got Ashura's attention, and blew bubbles in his coffee as Yasha snapped, "Now cut that out."

Karura woke up. It was rather late in the morning, she knew; maybe nine, nine-thirty, ten even? It didn't matter. She had no bar to go to work at now, and no family to visit anymore, and Garuda had plenty of cockatoo pellets.

Besides, she was comfy. The bed was warm, and Zouchouten was warm, and he was still asleep. It would be a shame, she decided virtuously, to wake the poor man up. She'd just be _forced _to stay here with his arm around her, tucked into his chest, feeling loved and content.

It was strange, when she thought about it, being in bed with a man who she hadn't even known existed this time last year. And that was odd. She felt like she'd always known him, that he'd been watching her back and touching her face since she'd been born. She was very thankful that he'd looked at her that night in March and suggested, "Have you ever considered security work?"

Maybe she had loved him even then. Maybe she'd only started when she'd noticed him looking at her with appreciation. She couldn't remember. Did it matter, really? She loved him, she always would, and if she had to sleep alone now she'd have a very hard time with it indeed.

She kissed his collarbone. _ I love you. Never leave me, okay?_

Then she blew a cool breath on his skin, and he shivered slightly in his sleep. _Well, he will someday, _her mind pointed out. _Leave you, that is. He'll die at some point, and so will you, if it comes to that. He'll probably go first, and then what will you do? _

She gave this some deep thought. _Well, I'll miss him, of course I will. And then I'll go on living and remembering, and hope that somehow we'll see each other again. _

She smiled, kissing him again. _And even if we don't…if there's nothing after this life…I'll have loved him, and that will be enough._

As Karura philosophized, Zouchouten's dreams were falling apart. Weird…he'd been in a nice warm forest, now he was out on a mountaintop with wind. Hmm. Wait, why was he naked on a mountaintop? He was, he could feel sheets on his skin and –

He opened his eyes. _Oh. _Well, that explained the nudity.

He hugged Karura tighter, murmuring "Morning."

"Good morning."

His eyes focused on his clock. "It's ten-thirty. We should get up."

"Ten-_thirty?_"Karura turned in his arms and peered at the clock herself. "Oh my. All right, let's get up."

And they did. They went down and had breakfast, and just when they were feeding Garuda there was a knock on the door. Karura, being closer, peered out the window to see a solemn-faced Kujaku Valentine standing on the steps. "It's Kujaku."

Zouchouten unlocked the door and pulled it open. "Kujaku? Why are you here?"

"Hey Zouchouten." Kujaku gave him a forced grin. "Nice yard. Nice house." He walked in, nodding at Karura. "Nice living room. Nice cockatoo."

As Zouchouten shut the door and locked it again, Karura studied Kujaku. He had the look of a man bearing distinctly bad news, which she'd seen many times as a cop. She faced him. "What's going on?"

He shook his head and motioned to the couch. "I think you should sit down, both of you."

Zouchouten obeyed, reaching out for Karura, who sat down reluctantly. Sitting down was bad, and it usually meant someone had been killed or was in a coma.

Kujaku bit his lip, squared his shoulders, and informed them, "Aguni Leonidas was murdered. Last night."

Karura gasped. Kujaku sighed. Zouchouten hugged Karura so tightly she had trouble breathing. She drew his attention to this with a kiss on his cheek and a murmured, "Air, Zouchouten, please."

He let her go, staring at Kujaku. "How? Who? And goddammit, why?"

The agent paced, shaking his head again. "Gunshot to the forehead. I think we all know who's responsible. And as for why…" He held up his hands helplessly. "Because she worked at the bar, and she was a friend of yours, and I don't know why she was out in a closed park last night, but she was found this morning."

He kicked the coffee table. "They _wanted _her found. They left her there like she was nothing as a warning. She was killed there, and blood spatter and bullet angle indicate she was shot at close range, from below and to the front. And –"

He broke off as Karura's eyes filled with tears. "You gonna be okay, Skye? Zou? You guys gonna be able to hear this?"

Karura took a deep breath, grabbing a Kleenex. She nodded, holding Zouchouten's hand, and told Kujaku, "We can handle it. There's something else, isn't there."

Kujaku nodded sadly. "Yes. They're autopsying her right now. I put a lot of pressure on them because she was scheduled for much later, but I waved my badge around and insisted."

His voice turned grim. "There was sexual activity. They already found…male DNA, if you will."

A tear slipped down Karura's cheek. "Whose? Who did that to her?"

"Skye, you're a former officer, you _know _that takes time. They may not even have the guy's DNA on record. Knowing Taishakuten, they probably don't. He has people all over, and if we had it once he could have erased it by now."

Zouchouten stared, horrible situations arising in his mind. "How well do you know your team?"

Kujaku sighed again. "The main players? I know them so well I can remember childhood pets' names and every single ukulele song Just ever loved. The low-level operatives? Not as well. I mean, I check up on them regularly, but bribes and blackmail have a way of changing one's allegiance."

He looked out the window, watching a squirrel dig in Mrs. Feeny's pots. "I don't _think _anyone I have here now is a mole, but I'd be hopelessly naïve to think they're all as principled as I am."

The non-agents pondered this unhappy piece of information as Playboy One sighed. "I want you two in a safe house," he said, in a tone of voice that brooked no argument.

"No." Zouchouten's voice startled both Karura and Kujaku.

"No," the bigger man repeated, turning to Karura. "You go. Take Garuda, you'll be safe there, but I'm staying here."

Kujaku protested, "Zou, that is an incredibly stupid –"

"Is it? Look: you want Taishakuten, yes? You haven't found him, and I'm willing to bet you've been looking for him for years," Zouchouten told him seriously. "I'll draw his fire. Keep an eye on this house. Hell, put a team in Mrs. Feeny's lily garden! If they come for me, you can –"

"Zouchouten, he's right. That's _stupid,_"Karura said firmly. "We have no guarantee King will come himself. He likely won't. He'll send professional killers for you while I sit there, wringing my hands like a _ninny –_" her voice was getting louder "– because you are too _overprotective and think you're ALPHA MALE!_"

Next door, Mr. Wiggles yapped in annoyance and Mrs. Feeny shook her head judgmentally. "That little trollop needs to learn about indoor voices."

In Zouchouten's house, he and Karura had stood up and were squaring off like prizefighters. If he hadn't been so worried about their safety, Kujaku would have found it hilarious that the two of them had gone from clinging to each other and kissing cheeks to ordering each other around and name-calling.

Karura was still talking: "It's a good idea, to draw Taishakuten out, because if you catch his hired killers you can make them talk. But _I _will be staying, dammit! I did not spend five years on the force to be ordered around by a middle-aged civilian!"

Big mistake. At the mention of "middle-aged civilian", Zouchouten's pupils pinpointed in rage. "I was hauling ass in Iraq as an Army corporal while you were in kindergarten, Karura! You think you're invincible, but you're _not! _You run around with your karate moves and you don't realize that Taishakuten is _playing_ with us!"

"Um, guys –" Kujaku tried weakly.

"I am very well aware of that! Don't you realize, Zouchouten, that we should all be dead by now? He wants something from us. That's the only reason you and I or Varuna or…or Koumokuten are alive!"

Kujaku managed, "Actually, you know, I think that –"

"Shut up!" both debaters snapped at him.

"Don't you see," Karura continued, turning her gaze back to Zouchouten, "we have something he needs. If he just shot up the house, he couldn't interrogate us, and that gives us the –"

"Yes, he'll interrogate you until you scream for mercy! Now," Zouchouten drew himself up to his full height, "you are going with Kujaku, and I am staying here with a contingent and my guns, and when whoever the hell he sends comes we'll turn the tables. Do you hear me? You are _going with Kujaku!_"

"If only one of you leaves he'll suspect a trap," the operative pointed out, then immediately regretted it. It wouldn't work the way he'd hoped. Instead they would just say –

"Then we'll both stay."

_Yup, perfect unison, right down to the glares at me._

Still…it was an intriguing prospect. Dangerous as hell, but intriguing. Kujaku considered this. He did have enough agents to tail Mr. and Ms. Stubbornness wherever they might go. There was no sense involving Mrs. Feeny (whoever the heck that was), but perhaps, with surveillance cameras in every room of Zouchouten's house, they'd be safe. And they were right, Taishakuten wanted something.

Kujaku had a horrible feeling that he knew what that something was, and decided that he'd be gluing himself to Yasha in case the crime lord got it. He could _protect _Yasha then.

_Or endanger him…_

Karura and Zouchouten were still staring at him, waiting for a response. They seemed to have forgotten their anger at each other, and now they were united in their foolhardy pride and their desire to make Kujaku give in.

He gave in. "Okay. You can both stay, and go about your lives, but I want…"

Fifteen minutes later, having given them their instructions and having called a couple other operatives in to introduce themselves, Kujaku asked them, "Now, who knows where you live?"

Karura answered, "Well, Vahyu does, he picked me up from here the other day and –"

"Set a guard on Beauchamp," Kujaku ordered his subordinates, who immediately pulled out their phones.

"And of course Koumokuten does," Zouchouten continued.

Kujaku paused. "Zou…how well do you know Oeste?"

Zouchouten responded seriously, "Better than anybody. Look, I know he may have made some bad choices in the past, but –"

"He used to work for Taishakuten twenty years ago," Kujaku replied matter-of-factly. "Were you aware of that?"

As the gobsmacked Karura breathed "What?", Zouchouten's eyebrows snapped together. "A coincidence. It has to be. Besides, do you have proof he still does?"

"No," Kujaku admitted. "We tailed him for a while, and he got mad and yelled at our agents. We let him be because, though he was being a bastard, he wasn't doing anything illegal. But I still think –"

"Exactly," Zouchouten said triumphantly. "All that happened many years ago. He pays taxes and _child support, _for heaven's sake! I hope you've been calling him too. He's in Las Vegas right now and he could be in danger. Give him a guard as well."

Kujaku sighed. "I have been calling. He's been answering and being all passive-aggressive, but I'm inclined to believe he actually is in Sin City. I keep hearing stripper music and loud drunken yells in the background every other time I do."

"Yup. That's Koumokuten. He's probably half-smashed at all times," Zouchouten sighed. "Look: I'll vouch for him. I know –" he held up a hand to forestall Karura's protests, "that he's not very nice to a lot of people, but he's my best friend and he's not so bad once you know him. Really."

Kujaku let it go. He had been known to make mistakes. "Do you want me to call him? I'll call in some favors and get a couple Vegas operatives to protect him."

"Sure."

In Taishakuten's mansion, four men had been monitoring the conversation in Zouchouten's living room, one of them taking screenshots of various angles of Kujaku's face. And in the meeting room, about twenty minutes after Mrs. Feeny had called Karura a trollop, Bishamonten called Koumokuten something else.

"Look, you ugly pervert, I'm getting tired of hearing about your antics. I mean, Ramirez said you brought him to three strip clubs in one night. Three! He has a dearly devoted wife and a ten-year-old son, and it's making him uncomfortable!"

Koumokuten, who had been subdued until Bishamonten had started in on him, now looked completely feral. "Hear that, Tai? Ramirez is uncomfortable around boobs," he sneered, as Rudra laughed and Bishamonten bristled. "Do not address Mr. King by a stupid nickname, Oeste! Even _I _must call him 'Taishakuten'!"

The mobster in question grinned. "Do tell, Kou. Ramirez obviously does not appreciate the pleasures of the flesh like you and me."

"That's so true…" Koumokuten smirked tauntingly at the red-faced Bishamonten, "Tai. The guy turned down a topless lapdance."

"Well, we can't all have such open-minded wives as my own," the silver-haired man sighed. "Shashi doesn't care at all. She does the same thing I do."

Koumokuten nodded seriously. "Yeah. That's why I'm never getting married…there aren't too many chicks like yours around."

"Yes." Taishakuten's smile was incredibly violent. "And she is _mine. _I know all about her lovers, and I find it amu–"

"I'm on the highway to Hell! Highway to Hell!"

AC/DC cut him off, and Koumokuten blinked upon seeing the number displayed on his phone. "It's Playgirl One."

"Put it on speaker," Bishamonten ordered.

Pressing a button, Koumokuten picked up his lit cigarette and leaned back, feet on the table once again. "Yo. This is Oeste."

"Mr. Oeste, this is Kujaku. Listen, I have some bad news. One of your employees is dead."

Koumokuten did his best impression of a shocked, innocent man. "No way. Oh my God, if it's Skye, I'll never –"

"No. Aguni Leonidas." Kujaku's voice was grim. "She was found in a park, probably sexually assaulted."

As Rudra smirked, Koumokuten leaned forwards. "Holy shit. I mean, damn, I liked Aguni!"

"Yes. Ms. Skye is beside herself, and your friend Mr. Southland is quite upset too."

Koumokuten sighed, "I'm pretty upset myself." Taishakuten smirked at this one, exchanging triumphant glances with Bishamonten.

Kujaku's voice turned dangerous. "Mr. Oeste, I have a rather hard time believing you have turned over a new leaf. I do know who you once worked for."

After mouthing "Sorry" to Taishakuten, Koumokuten lied through his teeth. "Oh, _well._ That was a long time ago. You know, that guy was a whackjob. Crazy as hell, and such girly hair. I got outta that game a long time ago, buddy."

"If he contacts you, Oeste, what would you do?"

"Well, of course I'd tell him to fuck off," Koumokuten replied, as if he would never, _ever _consider doing anything else. "I mean, I'd be freaked about hearing from him, but c'mon, I have people I love who might get caught in the crossfire."

There was a pause, then Kujaku said, "I do apologize, Mr. Oeste. Zou was right."

Another pause. "I'm sending a contingent to protect you. Zouchouten was very clear that he wanted you safe."

"Aw, that's…that's kinda sweet. You know, tell him 'hi' from me, okay? But don't tell him I said it was sweet, I'm not going soft or anything –"

"I won't tell a soul," Kujaku assured him. "If King contacts you, will you call me?"

The condescendingly-smiling Koumokuten replied, "For sure. I'm out." He hung up.

Putting his feet back on the floor, he turned to Bishamonten, who glared at him. "What, Bish? I couldn'ta said 'no' to that protection."

"No, but if you'd kept him on the line and asked –"

Koumokuten shook his head. "Nah. What if he's tracing it? Now, Tai, I have to say," he turned, "that I think the guy's… " He trailed off. Taishakuten was right behind him, barely an inch away, and Koumokuten hadn't even heard him move.

"Koumokuten," Taishakuten's hand shot out and grabbed him by the neck, "I do _not _have girly hair."

"Of course you don't," the terrified hitman babbled, as Bishamonten looked on with supreme enjoyment. "I was lying! I was lying like hell! You can be manly with long hair, I mean, I have it, and you're so much more badass, and –"

"Yes," Taishakuten murmured, lifting Koumokuten a little as Rudra cringed. "I am _very _badass. Compared to me, a moron like you is a whimpering child. Do not forget that."

"Not a chance, Mr. King, sir! I could never forget that little fact," Koumokuten told him honestly, gasping for breath. "I'm sorry to have offended you."

Taishakuten studied his minion, squeezed harder for a second, then let him go. "Apology accepted, Mr. Oeste."

_Why do I feel like Darth Vader just said that?_

Bishamonten looked a bit disappointed but changed the subject. "I'm surprised they were able to tell what happened to Leonidas, though."

Koumokuten flicked ashes at him (shakily). "That's because I _destroyed_ her, Bish. You shoulda seen it. You woulda liked it."

Taishakuten studied Koumokuten. The brunette was lying. _Interesting…perhaps you are not so bestial as you would have us believe, Oeste. What other things have you been keeping from me?_

"Koumokuten," the mob boss informed him imperiously, "you may go. My wife seems bored, so why don't you," he smirked, "_entertain_ her. As a reward."

He watched his minion's reaction very, very carefully. Koumokuten looked like he'd just been ordered to dance with a tiger. "By 'entertain', sir, do you mean I should, uh…"

"What do you think I mean?" Taishakuten murmured, as Bishamonten smiled at Koumokuten's obvious discomfort. "Tell me what you think I mean."

Koumokuten was trapped. If he said "I think you want me to bang her" and was wrong he would probably be shot, but if he was _right… _well, he wasn't going to think about that contingency. "Um, I think you want me to play chess with her!" he tried desperately, as that was the first thing that came to mind. After all, Shashi liked chess.

Mentally roaring with laughter, Taishakuten smiled. "Why Oeste, you've hit the nail right on the head. No doubt your superior brainpower will give Shashi a challenge." It was an obviously sarcastic insult, but Koumokuten barely noticed it.

"Great. I'll go in there right now." He practically ran out of the room, leaving his cigarette smoldering behind him.

Taishakuten turned to Rudra. "Cloudson, check Oeste's room. If you find anything unusual I want to know about it." He watched Rudra go, then faced Bishamonten. "It's time to take this enjoyable game to the next level."

(AN: I felt quite bad, by the end, killing off Aguni in such a way. Yes of course she's a psycho bitch in canon (and somewhat of a psycho bitch here too), but even she didn't deserve that. I'd made the decision that Koumokuten would kill her way back when I was sketching this story out, but it was surprisingly sad in its final form. I do, as strange as this makes me, almost hardcore ship them.

Only Taishakuten and Bishamonten are truly evil through and through in every interaction they have here, and while Koumokuten is evil too, in this story he's getting deeper and deeper into it as we go. Of course he blew up the bar and is betraying his best friend, but he is slightly nuanced. Still, this way I think he's even nastier than if he'd wanted to murder Aguni.

So, while for a few minutes I pondered having him kill Vahyu and having Aguni join her boss's reign of terror (she'd probably be quite good at it, and that would be more in line with the manga), I decided that was just not realistic. I _wanted _her to miraculously escape and maybe bring him with her, but hello… he's not a good person.

Perhaps if I'd developed their relationship more it might have been feasible, but now? Nope, he had to take that final step. Still, I console myself that in an upcoming fic they're married and gleefully abusing the world together. Sans Parvati/nameless harpy wife.

I told you things were going to get serious, didn't I? Oh well, take some consolation in the fact that the next chapter will have Bishamonten vs. Mrs. Feeny and Mr. Wiggles. Oh dear.

And my favorite Yasha/Kujaku scene! And Kujaku reading Ashura a bedtime story, cuteness overload. And Koumokuten getting pwned at chess by Shashi…kind of. Oh, just read it and see.)


	24. Have A Pleasant Day

The day after Koumokuten's brush with death, Zouchouten's next-door neighbor had a visitor.

"Sorry to bother you, ma'am, but perhaps you can help me."

Mrs. Feeny studied the man at her door shrewdly. Despite his long, almost fuchsia hair, his appearance just screamed respectability and he had such a nice smile. He was wearing a wedding band and a tailored suit, his tie was perfect, and his manners seemed impeccable.

"Well, I suppose so, young man. What do you need? But I should tell you that I already have a set of encyclopedias."

He laughed, long-lashed dark eyes half-closed in mirth. "Oh no, I'm not a salesman. I'm trying to find a friend of mine I lost touch with years ago. Maybe you know him: Zouchouten Southland?"

Mrs. Feeny nodded as Mr. Wiggles, who had been lying in his doggy bed, noticed the visitor and started to growl. This was not an unusual occurrence, and his owner ignored him. "Yes, I know Zouchouten. But I've seen television, and how do I know you're not a burglar after his good china?" she asked coyly.

The man laughed again. "That's wise of you, ma'am. Actually, I'm an undercover police officer. I do have my badge, if you'd like to see it."

"Dear Jesus Lord of Heaven," Mrs. Feeny muttered as she studied the badge he held up for her inspection, "what's he done?"

She was too busy looking at the thing to notice her dog's beeline for the man's ankle, or the sudden, savage movement of his left leg. There was a pained yelp, and she looked down at Mr. Wiggles, who seemed dazed.

"Your pet ran into the door," the visitor told her, sounding concerned. "Is it all right?"

"Oh, he'll be fine. He does that," she said seriously as the Yorkie looked at him, whimpered in acute fear, and ran back into the house. "But what's Zouchouten gotten himself into? I knew that woman would lead him astray," she said in a conspiratorial tone.

"I'm not at liberty to say." He nodded at the house next door. "Is that his place?"

"Oh, yes. But he's gone now, he and his little hussy left this morning and they'll probably be gone for a while longer. I can tell you when they come back, though," Mrs. Feeny offered generously.

The elegant man waved a hand. "Thank you, that's very kind, but not necessary. We'd appreciate it if you didn't mention my visit to him, though. For matters of security, you see."

"Yes, of course," she told him gleefully. "I'm always happy to help the law."

"Indeed. Well, have a pleasant day, ma'am." He nodded and turned to go, walked back to his fancy car, opened the door, waved to her, and got in, putting a cell phone to his ear.

Mrs. Feeny looked back at her dog. "Mr. Wiggles, what's _wrong?_"

Outside in his Mercedes, Bishamonten's expression wouldn't have looked out of place on a hammerhead shark. "This is it," he told Taishakuten. "Oeste gave us the right address."

"Of course he did, Bishamonten…he knows better than to lie to me about this."

"Whom do you want me to use?" Bishamonten asked, starting his car.

"Well Oeste of course, and I think Domingo and Dobson. I shall be accompanying you myself, so maybe only one more. Ramirez perhaps."

"Actually, Ramirez has a thing with his son tonight. The brat's having a quarter-birthday party."

Stunned silence, then, "A _quarter-_birthday party? That's completely ridiculous."

Bishamonten laughed at the stupidity of parents. "Apparently, since so many of his friends had half-birthday and birthday parties, little Martin deserved a quarter-birthday party, so he wouldn't be left out and feel bad about himself."

"And they call _me _psychotic…there is such a thing as too much self-esteem, you know. Well," Taishakuten sighed, "not Ramirez then."

Kujaku looked up from his book (The Indispensable Calvin and Hobbes) as his phone rang. He glanced guiltily at Yasha, who had looked up from his own Bleak House.

"Sorry…I have to answer that," Kujaku said, smiling in a "Whatcha-gonna-do?" way. Luckily Yasha just nodded calmly. "All right. Go into the kitchen so you won't disturb anyone."

Kujaku flashed him a grateful grin and trotted off, putting his phone to his ear. Yasha watched him go and sighed.

Kujaku had persuaded Ashura that they needed to have a weeklong sleepover, and Ashura had persuaded his father that this was so. So now Kujaku was living in his house, running around in pink fluffy bunny slippers with a concealed firearm at all times. Yasha didn't mind this _too_ much, because Kujaku was great about making sure the safety was on, and he had to wear a loose shirt at all times to help hide the thing.

The longhaired man was both exasperated by and rather thankful for the fact that Kujaku wouldn't be showing him his peacock tattoo for a while.

Still, something was obviously up, so Yasha listened very carefully for Kujaku's side of the conversation. Currently, Kujaku was responding with, "Oh…_crap. _Oh crap. Are you sure? ...Oh shi– oh _shoot. _Did you – …okay. And you – …yeah, sorry, I know. I know …Hey, I said I was sorry, meanie!"

Kujaku, Yasha chuckled to himself, sounded rather like a petulant infant at times.

"So nothing. …Okay, call him again…I know, but we have to try! Taishakuten must've gotten him," he continued as Yasha heard the sounds of pacing. "Darn it, I called him! He told me he'd be there! Why didn't you guys call me earlier? …Oh I am _not _going native, Maggie! Oh yeah? Same to you!"

Yasha smiled slightly. Kujaku going native…he had a brief vision of Kujaku wearing a buckskin loincloth and smeared with warpaint, yodeling Polynesian folk songs and dancing around a fire. And he'd be having a ridiculous amount of fun.

He'd probably drag Yasha into the circle and make him have fun too, if he hadn't lashed the teacher to a ceremonial pole or something. But Yasha _would _have fun; he'd be embarrassed at first, but Kujaku would tease him and cajole him and pull his hair lightly until Yasha was singing just as loudly as he was.

Kujaku was still talking, but Yasha was busy thinking. He was used to Kujaku now. Well okay, he'd always felt slightly odd waking up without the man, but now he didn't know what he'd do if Kujaku left him. He'd be so crushed that he'd never smile again.

Now that seeing his former lover was a daily occurrence, Yasha realized, it was like he _needed _Kujaku. And he did. He'd be lying if he'd said that he wanted the two of them to be just friends. No, he wanted to kiss the other man and confess, "I want you to be with me forever," he wanted to drag him upstairs and get erotic, he wanted to tell Ashura, "Son, your father's in love with your best friend."

And Ashura would shriek with joy and yell, "Okay! Get married!"

Yasha paused. That would be – well, still not recognized in this state, but it would be…it would be…

_It would be jolly well bloody great, is what it would be._

Even though a British voice had said that in his head, Yasha knew it was his heart and mind speaking. So. Okay. He loved Kujaku. He wanted Kujaku. He loved wanting Kujaku.

But there was a catch: Kujaku was still hiding things from him. Yasha couldn't just ask him, "Kujaku, who do you work for? Who are you trying to protect or bring down? Why do you keep pretending you're what you're not?"

Well _actually, _maybe he _could _just point-blank ask him that.

He set down his exceedingly depressing book and got to his feet, jaw set in determination. He was going to get answers, and when he did, he would know if he could lay his feelings out like that or not. He took a step towards the kitchen, and right then Ashura popped up from behind the couch.

"Hi Yasha!"

Yasha jumped. "Ashura? What are you doing back there? Enclosed tiny spaces are _dangerous,_"he lectured. Ashura just grinned, cute as could be.

"I'm being a spy guy!" he told his father proudly, and a smile tugged at Yasha's mouth.

"Oh, you are, are you?" he asked his son. "Was that Kujaku's idea for you to be a spy guy, by any chance?"

"No," Ashura assured him glibly, "Kujaku wanted me to be a superhero, but I didn't have a costume."

"Oh." Yasha thought for a moment. "Well, what about your Spiderman mask from Halloween last year?"

The six-year-old's face lit up, but then he shook his head sadly. "You said that Halloween masks are for _Halloween._"

"Hmm." Yasha pretended to consider this for a moment. "You know what, Ashura, maybe, if we don't tell anybody, you can wear it today, okay?"

"YAY!" Ashura scrambled out from behind the couch. "Thank you, Yasha!" He launched himself at his father and hugged him around the waist. Yasha hugged him back, grinning.

As Yasha and Super Ashura went to get the mask in innocent good fun, Kujaku hung up his phone and resisted the urge to throw a chair out the window. Something was once again wrong. Koumokuten Oeste was missing; he hadn't answered his phone and the Vegas operatives couldn't find him. He was probably dead by now –

_Whoa there Ku, maybe there's an innocent explanation, _he told himself, grasping at straws.

Maybe Koumokuten was sleeping it off in a comfy hotel room somewhere. Maybe a hooker had stolen his phone. Maybe he'd been so drunk he'd fallen down a flight of stairs and was even now bitching at a nurse.

Kujaku stared at a dragonfly on the window, not even seeing it. No…something had happened. It was too neat. He'd called Oeste, not two hours after he'd spoken to him yesterday, and told him where to meet his new best friends who were armed and could keep him safe. A grumpy-sounding Koumokuten, with a woman laughing "And who's that?" in the background, had assured him he would do so.

"You know, this is actually almost cool. Cloak and dagger stuff, huh? _Hey, stop that! Don't you dare touch that thing again! _Sorry."

Kujaku, who had been thinking that a dead human being and danger to life and limb were _not _cool, had asked suspiciously, "Who's there with you?"

"Aw, just some slut. _Oh c'mon, you know you are. _Anyway, this is real exciting. _Yeah, go on and leave! _So these guys'll keep me safe, right? And I meet 'em there in an hour?"

A rather disgusted Kujaku had replied, "Yes. Keep your phone handy in case something happens."

"Sure thing. Bye. _Hey bitchwhore, this means I –_"

Koumokuten had hung up then, and that was the last time anyone had heard from him.

Despite very much hoping (for a couple of reasons) that the "bitchwhore" had kicked Koumokuten to the curb and taken his money, phone, and pants, Kujaku had the dreadful feeling that Zouchouten's friend was in fact beyond such problems right now.

Kujaku realized somewhat belatedly that he should have been tracing Koumokuten's cell signal, as it would at least give the Vegas guys and gals a place to start from. _Stupid… _He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before. That had been a deadly mistake, he thought angrily, not realizing how right he was.

He thought about telling Zouchouten and Karura that Koumokuten was presumed dead, but he decided that until he had a body, he shouldn't tell them anything at all. They were probably safe for now, as Taishakuten liked to toy with his victims and freak them out for long periods of time.

King had done this before. He'd once picked off an entire squad of federal agents, one every three weeks (he liked the number three), until none were left. The last one had been so spooked he'd locked himself in his safe house, then he'd actually managed to trip and fall down the stairs himself at a car horn (Kujaku had seen the footage).

Yes, the mob boss was sending them a message. It was no longer "Back off"…now it was "I'm coming for you". He would come for everyone, and he'd find them. Except for Souma and Kendappa, who were taking this very seriously and staying in their condo with guards and not leaving at all, the personnel of the Four Gods were, despite being much more cautious now, going about their lives.

And in Koumokuten's case, Kujaku thought grimly, it had gotten him killed. And the operative had the sense that, just as he, Kujaku, had from Koumokuten found Karura and Zouchouten, Taishakuten would use them to find him. Because really, a bouncer and a bar owner, though they might happily try to kill him if they saw him in person, weren't a very big threat to the crime lord.

But Playboy One, with the fury of his agency and the government at his disposal, could make things very difficult for Taishakuten indeed. And Kujaku was close. He knew it. All he needed to know was the exact location of the bastard's base and he could storm it.

Kujaku was not flattered by the compliment that Taishakuten knew of him and found him a threat. Instead, he was worried as hell. Because if the underworld ruler found out who he was, Ashura and Yasha were doomed.

If he'd known that Taishakuten would take an interest in him, Kujaku would have walked right off when he'd seen Yasha and his son on the playground that day. He would have done it to keep them safe, in a heartbeat.

As it was, he was seriously considering moving them to a secure location, and bringing Ryuu and his parents, and Kumaraten, Kahra, and their daughter, along for good measure. But eight people just up and disappearing would raise some eyebrows, as they were all connected. Taishakuten might find out, and he'd ask around and see who they'd been hanging out with and talking to.

And if he found Kujaku and killed him…Karura was dead, Zouchouten was dead, that stereotype _Beauchamp_ was dead. Everybody would be wiped out. And he couldn't move them all.

Kujaku the lover compromised with Kujaku the secret agent: if in one week he was no closer to the crime lord, he would tell Yasha he had to move for his son's safety. Then he would hold a gun to Zouchouten's head until he and Karura gave in, and let Kujaku move them to a safe place.

_One week... _He clenched his fists in determination. _Let's get crackin'._

Many hours later, ignorant of the noose tightening around her, Karura was standing in the supermarket and picking out tomorrow's breakfast, a pair of agents loitering casually around the store.

"Hi. I couldn't help but notice your melons."

She looked up in a rage. She couldn't even go the supermarket without someone hitting on her, she thought with a gnash of her teeth.

The balding man holding a bunch of bananas nodded to the honeydew in her cart. "Those look bruised, and their price is way too inflated. The cantaloupe is a better deal."

"Oh. Thank…you." She watched him warily. He smiled cluelessly, waved goodbye, and walked off with his bananas.

She sighed, then looked down the aisle. Zouchouten was studying the price on a bag of organic carrots. When the bald guy passed him they nodded at each other politely, and the smaller man never realized that he'd narrowly escaped verbal evisceration.

Karura turned back to the honeydew melons. The guy was right, she'd been settling. She put them back, considered the cantaloupe, and decided it wasn't worth it.

She didn't notice Zouchouten suddenly glaring past her as she walked over to the bulk candy and nut dispensers, thinking carefully of the relative advantages of cashews versus pecans. Peanuts were a given for Garuda, but –

"You have a thing for nuts, huh lady?"

_Good lord, _she groaned in her head, _how can these people be so abysmally stupid?_ She forced herself to smile normally at a yuppie type with gold-rimmed glasses. He didn't _look_ like a perv…

She was instantly reminded that you never can tell as the man grinned arrogantly and offered, "You wanna see mine? You might not be able to take it, tight little body like yours, but –"

"Karura, is he bothering you?" a possessive growl came from her side.

The guy looked at Zouchouten, then looked at her, then back at Zouchouten. "Oh, you're some kinda size queen!" he leered. "Then I'll bet you _can _handle my – AAAH!"

Zouchouten hardly seemed to have moved, but the younger man was now sprawled back, his nose broken and his expression dazed. Karura looked over at her companion in shock.

"I wanted to do that since he looked at your chest," he said, cracking his knuckles in an overly-exaggerated display of machismo, as a cashier nervously pressed the button for the intercom and stammered "Manager to the front, please, manager to the front."

_He'll be ululating and pounding his chest like some sort of silverback next_, Karura thought angrily.

"Zouchouten, you can't just punch people like that!" she hissed. "He could sue you!" She could see Agents Bob and Bobbi closing in, and sighed. What a stupid situation.

"No way," the guy groaned from the floor. "Ow, dammit…where are my glasses?"

Zouchouten didn't even have the grace to look the slightest bit contrite as he indicated the snapped frames with a wave of his hand. "They weren't expensive, I hope," he said, in a tone of voice that indicated that he really couldn't have cared any less.

"Yeah, they actually were…oh fuck…" Yuppie Man groped for the remains and squinted up at Karura, who was drawing breath to lecture Zouchouten on fighting fair and using his words. "Lady, I was gonna offer to 69 you, but –"

She stomped on his hand, kicked his glasses away, and sprinted out to the car as Zouchouten pounded after her, food items forgotten. The manager showed up as the doors closed behind him, and sighed, turning to the cashier. "Ellie, blood cleanup in Aisle Nine. And add those people to the watch list."

She shook her head as two other panicked people followed Zouchouten. "Then have someone take care of those abandoned carrots and that cart over there."

"And so the very happy bunny was, indeed, a very happy bunny," Kujaku read aloud to Ashura, who was tucked into bed and squeezing Bunny-Wunny Pig-Pig, his weird stuffed pig-rabbit thing. "Never did the very happy bunny have –"

"Hey Kujaku?"

The agent paused. "Yeah, Ashura?"

Ashura, who looked pretty sleepy, asked him seriously, "Are you going to marry Yasha, Kujaku?"

Kujaku just sat there in shock. He hadn't thought the kid had picked up on that.

He thought fast. What to tell Ashura? Should he lie, should he say "Now don't be silly, your daddy's a man! And anyway we're just friends"? Or should he sigh and say longingly, "Darn it, Ashura, I love him so much I want to be with him past death itself"?

He settled for a matter-of-fact "Don't be silly, your daddy's a man and I want to be with him past death itself."

Whoops, that hadn't come out exactly right. "Er…"

Ashura just nodded, like he had known this all along. "I want you to marry Yasha. You can be my second daddy, and Yasha can be happy! And Ryuuy can be your best man, and Kahra can be your maid of honor," he told Kujaku firmly, because he had figured this out all by himself, and if he told Yasha to do this his father would.

Yes, Ashura loved Kujaku. And Ashura loved Yasha. And Ashura wanted Yasha to love Kujaku too.

Kujaku had a faraway look in his eyes. "Yeah, and Just can play his ukulele and…" He shook his head. "I'd like that, Ashura, but your dad might not. And I wouldn't do anything your dad wouldn't like."

Ashura pouted. "But Yasha _likes _you. He smiles more since you've been here."

"Really?" Kujaku brightened up before he realized that he really shouldn't be having this conversation when Yasha was sitting downstairs in his living room, reading a book. Ashura might get excited and loud and alert his father to the subject.

So the man reached out and ruffled the boy's hair. "We'll just have to see, okay? Now, back to the very happy bunny."

He read it through, then read it again, because Ashura wasn't quite asleep yet. Halfway though the second rendition, Kujaku glanced over and noticed that Yasha's son had drifted off, looking simply adorable.

_How incredibly cute. _Sure, the kid was spoiled and had the latest bedtime for a six-year-old Kujaku had ever heard of, but he was just the sweetest, most "aaawww"-inspiring child ever.

Kujaku closed the book, kissed Ashura's forehead, and turned out the light.

And then, instead of walking downstairs and saying goodnight to Yasha before he went back to his guest bedroom, he opened the master bedroom door. Here was where Yasha could be truly alone, where he slept, where he no doubt read his boring books and thought late at night.

_Did you ever think about me, Yasha? I thought about you._

Kujaku was slightly tempted to go through Yasha's drawers just for the fun of it, but he held himself back. Yasha might get mad about that one. He might get mad if he found Kujaku here, actually, but he _was _here, and dang, the room even smelled like Yasha!

The purple-eyed agent looked around. There were a number of photos on the dresser: mostly of Ashura, a couple of Yasha and Rasetsu, one of Yasha's parents, and…

Kujaku's jaw dropped. The exact same picture he had on his phone.

He walked over and picked it up. There they were, seven years ago, Yasha looking embarrassed because he hated having his picture taken, and Kujaku mugging shamelessly for the camera because he liked being photographed. It had been taken two weeks before he'd left.

He stared at the couple. _You guys were so happy, huh? You didn't know I'd leave and he'd leave and we'd be apart for nearly a decade and never be the same._

But Yasha had kept the photograph. He hadn't torn it up and thrown it away, instead he'd had the thing _framed. _

Kujaku put it back down, hope whirling in his chest. He sat down on the bed, hard, and he bounced. And then he bounced again. And again. This was _fun!_

_Hey, maybe sometime Ashura and I can bounce on the bed! _he thought hopefully, forgetting that doing such a thing shouldn't be encouraged, because bedsprings were _expensive._

"Are you being immature again, Kujaku?"

Said man whipped around. Yasha was standing in the doorway, and though his tone had been stern he was grinning like this was the funniest thing he'd seen in years.

"Um…maybe?" Kujaku managed.

The other man grinned some more. "I'd say 'definitely yes'. Can't you go bounce on your own bed?"

Kujaku shook his head firmly. "Nah, mine's all not-springy at all. It sucks for bouncing. I mean, the one here might be better, but my own is like a plank."

Yasha laughed. "What a shame. You know, Kujaku, I get the distinct sense that your apartment is pretty unlived-in, the way you spend so much time here."

"Yeah," Kujaku sighed. "It's all lonely. I thought about getting a hamster or something, but y'know, those things can be _mean."_

As Kujaku remembered the horrible experience of a dwarf hamster hanging off his finger at the pet store, Yasha studied him. The teacher then asked a question he'd wanted to have answered for quite a while:

"You like it here, then? Even with your lonely apartment?"

"Of course! I have you guys here, so it's much better than New York, where I had… nothing," Kujaku murmured. "Nobody at all."

He paused, wondering what to say next. They were heading into dangerous territory now, but Yasha had started it.

Kujaku took the bull by the horns. "Hey Yasha…have you, um, slept with anybody? I mean, after I left, I wouldn't have blamed you if you'd found someone else, and –"

"Good heavens no, Kujaku. I threw myself into my work, avoided everyone, and took so many cold showers that I turned blue."

Kujaku grinned in relief. "So did I. Although," he said matter-of-factly, "I made really good use of memories and my hand an awful lot."

Yasha flushed, but replied with complete candor, "Well, I did that too, more than I'd like to admit."

Kujaku smiled. "You're so honest…actually," he took a deep, bracing breath, "speaking of honesty, I have to tell you something."

Yasha just looked at him steadily. "Let me guess: you're a secret agent, Taishakuten is a villain out to destroy the world, and you were using me as cover?"

The stunned Kujaku managed, "Yes I am, he kinda is, and absolutely _not, _Yasha. I would never _ever _do that to you."

Yasha smiled, looking very relieved. "That explains why you kept running off and answering your phone. But was I right, that night in the bar, that you were here on a mission?"

"Actually," Kujaku laughed, "I was here on a mandated vacation. And then I started noticing things, and I made some friends, and now they're in trouble, which explains why _you_, Yasha, and your son, and even grumpy Ryuu, have all been watched at all times by no less than three operatives."

Yasha blinked in confusion. "Three at all times? I usually only noticed two."

"Well," Kujaku bragged, "I count the best in the business, which is myself, in that number."

"So you stayed to protect me from this Taishakuten?" Yasha seemed rather disappointed.

Kujaku shook his head, looking him in the eyes. "Yasha…I would have stayed by you no matter what."

The longhaired man took a deep breath. "Is Ashura in bed?"

Kujaku smiled again. "Sleeping like a little angel." He watched Yasha's slow, deliberate approach with a full-fledged grin threatening to break over his face. "He shouldn't wake up for a quite a while."

"Good. Because I want to make love to you, Kujaku."

_Okay, do not jump squealing into his arms, Ku. Maybe all that talk about hands and memories just made him super horny._

He played it cool. "You want to have sex, huh? Well okay, I'm down with –"

"No," Yasha corrected, "I said I want to make _love._"He put his hands on the sides of the other man's face, then guided him in to a gentle, chaste, yet absolutely passionate kiss. "Because I love you," he told him when he pulled back. "I love you, Kujaku."

"And I love _you, _Yasha." Kujaku kissed the side of his mouth. "I love you so damn much."

"Yes, I know." They smiled at each other, back right where they belonged, as if seven years had never passed.

Kujaku touched Yasha's cheek. "You have such gorgeous eyes, you know." He reached up and took off the glasses reverently.

"Not compared to you. Kujaku, I kind of need those." Yasha made a grab for his frames, but Kujaku set them on a shelf and shielded them determinedly.

"But they might get bent, or at least get really fogged," he pointed out, the voice of reason. "I liked it better when you had contacts, so I could see those midnight blues clearly." He caught Yasha's hand and kissed it, and the teacher made a decision.

"Well, I'll start wearing the contacts for you again. You know, as an engagement present."

"Yasha, same-sex marriage isn't recognized in this sta… "

Kujaku blinked, then blinked again, and yes, Yasha was _still _looking at him with a smile on his face, open and vulnerable and so obviously in love that all Kujaku could say was, "Okie-dokie, then. But _you _have to wear the silk gown."

"That's not funny, Kujaku," Yasha sighed in fond annoyance. "Neither of us is into that at all."

Kujaku stuck his tongue out teasingly, and was very surprised when Yasha moved faster than he could track and grabbed it between a thumb and forefinger. "Don't do that," Yasha ordered.

"Ohey. Emme goh, Ahha."

Yasha smirked, "Because I'd rather we put that mouth to better use."

"O_hey_," Kujaku responded enthusiastically.

Yasha let him go, then embraced him. "I know I usually wanted to be on top, but, well, I thought, for today, since you came to me…"

Kujaku cocked his head. "I am perfectly fine with that, Yasha, but do you have any –"

The slightly pink teacher nodded and gestured to the side, even as he reached for his shirt buttons. "In my nightstand. I, um, I bought it earlier today with high hopes."

Kujaku grinned at him. "You think of everything. That's why I love you."

Ten minutes later, in his room, Ashura heard strange noises, smiled, and hugged Bunny-Wunny Pig-Pig in innocent happiness.

(AN: Oh _yay, _we finally get consummated Yasha/Kujaku! Woo-hoo! Goodness, now everybody's gotten naughty. Well, except of course for Ashura, and Ryuu, and Varuna, and possibly poor Hanranya but probably not…gee, just some background characters are left, really. Damn, this is an oversexed cast. Even Koumokuten's gotten lucky a number of times, scary.

Now I'm not sure about you guys, but as a bespectacled person, Zouchouten's destruction of Yuppie Man's glasses was exceedingly nasty. Really, how's he going to get home if he can't see to drive? And glasses cost an absolute _ton_ of money.

And Bishamonten's animal abuse is downright cruel, but hey, it's Bish. So even though I kind of hate little yappy dogs, I'd like to make it clear that I condemn such cruelty in the strongest possible terms. Same with what he does to poor Kisshouten. )


	25. I'm In It For Me

Zouchouten watched Karura drive with growing fear. She screeched through yellow lights, slammed the gas pedal, and he'd actually thought she was going to hit that Hummer a couple blocks back. Good lord, she'd even left the agents tailing them in the dust, which was quite worrisome indeed.

He briefly considered asking her to pull over and offering to drive himself, but she turned up the radio and glared out the windshield, gripping the steering wheel in fury, looking like she'd take his head off if they didn't go home right _now._

So he kept quiet and gripped the armrest like it would keep them safe if he squeezed hard enough, and they made it back in record time. Karura shut off the radio and the car with quick, jerky movements, unbuckled her seatbelt, and slumped.

"We really should have bought the food. Or gone to another store," she muttered, standing up and getting out of the car. He followed, nodding.

"Yeah. Um, I know you wanted salmon for tomorrow, but I think we have some steak I can –"

"No, we don't. We made it on Tuesday, remember?"

Zouchouten considered this. Yes indeed, steak _had _been consumed on Tuesday. Damn.

She still looked homicidal, so he attempted another peace offering. "Chicken then? I know we have chicken."

Karura sighed, shutting her door so violently that the entire car shook. "Chicken will be fine. Thank you."

Zouchouten was already walking up to the house, taking his keys out. "Great. Why don't you read a book and relax while I unload the dishwasher, okay?"

"I'll be right in."

He nodded and unlocked the door, disappearing inside, and she kicked a front tire in acute frustration. The sound of a car door slamming made her drop her keys, and she spent nearly a full minute on the ground before she found them.

"Gotcha," she muttered triumphantly as she picked them up from behind the wheel.

"Indeed."

Three shadows closed in.

Right about the time when Karura's keys had hit the ground, Zouchouten paused in his hallway. Something felt wrong. He could clearly see a light on in the living room, and Garuda was screeching something.

_Shit. Okay, turn around, go back outside, and call the police. Do __not__ confront whoever the hell this is, _he told himself firmly, and thus was very surprised when he found himself clicking the safety off on his Beretta and moving down the hallway as silently as he could.

But the cockatoo was screaming, "Bad! Bad! KARURA! Bad!" in panic, and there was no possible way he could face the woman he loved and tell her he'd abandoned her precious bird.

He took a deep breath and entered the room, gun out…and Koumokuten was sitting on his sofa, holding a beer and watching his TV.

"Damn, Z. Don't point that thing at me." Koumokuten turned the volume up and groaned, "Aw, my _daughter _coulda made a better pass than that!"

"Koumokuten," Zouchouten sighed, "what have I told you about warning me before you drop in?" Immensely relieved, he stepped forward, placing the gun on a bookshelf. "I thought you were still in Las Vegas."

"I came back an hour ago. I seem to have missed a lot of action," Koumokuten shrugged, sipping his beer.

Zouchouten frowned at him. "Is that what you call poor Aguni's _murder_? I thought you liked her!"

For a second Koumokuten looked almost distraught before what Zouchouten thought was false, manly bravado covered it up. "I do – I mean, I did, Z. I did like her…" The ponytailed man suddenly glared at Garuda. "Shut the parakeet up, Z. It's getting _really _annoying."

"He's a cockatoo, Koumokuten, and he's overprotective." Zouchouten reached a hand into the cage and stroked Karura's bird in a reassuring manner. "It's okay, Garuda. You're fine."

"Zouchouten," Garuda muttered, fluffing his feathers. "Karura?"

That gave him pause. Where was she? Why hadn't she come in? Pulling his hand back and shutting the cage, Zouchouten told his business partner, "I'll be right back."

Koumokuten narrowed his eyes, his next words stopping Zouchouten in his tracks. "Skye must've been gasoline to the fire of your libido. Too bad."

"What?" The bigger man turned back to his friend.

Koumokuten shrugged, a resigned gesture. "She's got you tied down and wrapped around her finger, and it's disturbing to watch. You really shouldn't've slammed the door on those strippers I sent you for your birthday, because maybe if you'd taken off the edge, you wouldn't be so fucking _balls deep _in the biggest problem of your life."

He stood up then, his eyes on the hallway behind Zouchouten. "That's a fact, Z."

Zouchouten started to turn, only to be met with the barrel of a gun in his face. The elegant man holding it smirked at him, arching a dark red eyebrow. "Hello there, Southland."

"This is Bishamonten. He's a…friend of mine. Now," Koumokuten's tone turned serious, "you're going to keep your hands where I can see them and not try anything stupid." He walked over and picked up the gun Zouchouten had put down, aiming it at him.

"I mean it. Did they get Skye?" Koumokuten asked Bishamonten. "I'd be more worried about her trying something, actually."

"Koumokuten, if anything happens to Karura, I will tear your arms off slowly," came the furious response. Zouchouten's voice had a note of panic in it, and he was fighting the urge to smack his forehead for telling Kujaku that Koumokuten was a-okay.

Said criminal rolled his eyes. "Blow me. She's outside." He twirled the Beretta almost gleefully and continued, "Let's go see her and meet the rest of the gang."

"Koumokuten, why are you doing this?" Zouchouten growled desperately as he was marched through the hallway.

Koumokuten regarded him with no shame whatsoever. "Why? Because I'm a bastard, pure and simple. I'm in it for me. Hello." He pulled the door open, revealing a chilling sight.

Three men in dark suits surrounded Karura, who was cuffed on the hood of her car and glaring at the guns trained on her. She struggled as Bishamonten walked Zouchouten out the door, and Koumokuten smirked, "You look good restrained, Skye. Don'tcha think so, Z?"

Zouchouten's look of pure hatred by all rights should have stopped a train, but nobody even batted an eye at it. Bishamonten nodded to the silver-haired man with the gun to Karura's head. "No phone calls were made. We're secure."

The one in charge turned a smile to Zouchouten, and Zouchouten could swear he'd seen warmer eyes on a viper. "I'm Taishakuten. Your woman seems to be making a habit of annoying me." He nodded at Karura. "Mr. Southland, your cooperation would be advantageous, to you more than me. I have no problem putting a bullet through her brain."

He smirked, Caligula in Armani. "In the car. Do it. Make any loud noises and I firebomb the neighboring houses and she dies right here, right now."

Koumokuten tossed the Beretta casually and caught it, with the expert movements of someone who'd played around with dangerous weapons an awful lot. "Do it, Z. The man doesn't lie."

"Yes," Bishamonten sneered, "and I in particular would relish taking out the senile old bat next door."

Zouchouten desperately and briefly considered trying to call Taishakuten's bluff and yelling for help, but Karura was held at gunpoint, dammit, and if he had to watch her die–

Well, he wasn't going to contemplate that. The thing to do now was cooperate with them.

He nodded. "Fine. We won't try anything."

Karura gasped, "Zouchouten, no, you should never let yourself be taken –"

Taishakuten slammed her against the hood. "Ms. Skye, your boyfriend is obviously trying to keep you alive. Depriving him of that gallant pastime would be cruel."

"Karura, we'll go with them. Don't get yourself killed," Zouchouten pleaded. She nodded through watery eyes.

"Good girl, Skye. You're a smart chick." Koumokuten stowed the gun as Bishamonten gave Mrs. Feeny's house a longing glance, then opened the car door. "To Zenmi, boss?"

"Yes, Oeste." Taishakuten shoved Karura into the backseat violently. "To Zenmi."

They were well aware that Kujaku probably had a good idea by now of where the mansion was. Koumokuten had suggested interrogation in the warehouse district, but Bishamonten had lit up, saying, "No, Kisshouten's office. By the time anyone gets up there, it will be too late."

Now, Taishakuten went back to his own car, smirking. Yes…game, set, and soon match, in his favor. After all, he was a god among mortals, and when he found out where Playboy One was, he'd be a god with nothing more to worry about.

Kujaku's phone lit up and rang, the tinny sound of his favorite song shattering the breathless, contented silence: "Hold on, before it's too late, we'll run 'til we –"

Groaning, the violet-eyed man reached a leaden arm out and picked it up as Yasha stared at him.

"Oh man, _why now?_" Kujaku whined to the world at large. "This is quality post-sex snuggle time you're interrupting," he snapped into the receiver as Yasha flushed crimson. "Unless somebody's dead, I don't –"

"Ku, Taishakuten's got Skye and Southland!" Shara practically screamed on the other end.

Kujaku bolted out of bed, panicked. "Oh my motherfucking _lord!_"

"Tenou," Kisshouten smiled at her lover/assistant as he walked into her sleeping room, "what are you doing here? With flowers?"

He grinned and proffered the roses. "I told my mother I was going to a party. She told me to make sure I stayed away from loose women and that I would always be little Tenniekins to her, even if I _was _going out and engaging in underage drinking."

Kisshouten laughed, "Well, then it's a good thing I'm not offering you alcohol." She accepted the bouquet, smiling like her day had been made.

"Oh yes, that would be illegal," he told her earnestly. "Actually, I thought we might… um, well… I thought…er –"

"Tenou," Kisshouten smiled and placed the roses on a table, "that is so sweet of you to bring me flowers."

"I'm glad you like them," he told her, honest happiness shining in his eyes. "I grew them myself."

Long, lush lashes blinked in surprise. "You're a gardener?"

"Yeah." He seemed a little embarrassed. "My father thinks it's stupid, but it really calms me down and I love it." He gave her a half-grin. "I remembered you said you loved roses, once."

"Oh, I do. I really do." She smiled at him, reaching out to pull him close. "Red ones are my favorite, too."

"Why?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, at first because they usually smell so good…but now I think because they have my favorite color combination," Kisshouten explained, beaming.

He seemed confused. "What combination? They're one color."

She kissed his hair. "Red –" she kissed his eyelid, "– and green."

"Oh."

"Yes."

He kissed her mouth. "I love you."

"I love _you_, Tenou."

Too wrapped up in each other, neither noticed the noises of movement down the hall fifteen minutes later.

As Tenou and Kisshouten were forgetting the roses, another pair of lovers was about to be parted.

"Kujaku, _don't_," a robe-clad Yasha pleaded as the agent prepared to head out the door, fully dressed and gun in hand. "You could get killed!"

"If I don't go, two people die for sure and who knows who Taishakuten comes after next. I'm not letting that happen." Kujaku yanked the door open. "Stay here. Tell Ashura I'll read 'The Very Happy Bunny' to him again tomorrow, and for the love of all things good, _don't answer the door _unless you know who it is."

"Kujaku…" He turned to look, and Yasha swept him up in a desperate, bruising kiss. When they finally pulled back, the teacher told his man seriously, "Come back to me. You have to."

"KU! Let's _go!_" Smythe yelled from the car.

"I'm not going to die, Yasha. I just got you back, and I am _not _going to be taken from you, ever." With a wink, Kujaku turned and ran down the sidewalk as his beloved watched him.

"Yasha?" He turned at the sound of Ashura's forlorn voice.

"Yasha, where's Kujaku going?" The little boy's lower lip trembled as he asked, "He's coming back, right?" Ashura was clinging to Bunny-Wunny Pig-Pig, his hair loose and his eyes full of tears, confused and almost terrified by the fact that Kujaku was suddenly leaving.

Yasha hugged his son to him as if he could anchor him to safety. _I sure hope so._ "Ashura, Kujaku has to…go save people," he told him finally, sounding choked.

Ashura nodded solemnly. "Like a superhero?"

"Yes." Yasha cradled Ashura's head to his chest. "Just like a superhero." _Except my Kujaku can be killed by a lot more than kryptonite._

(AN: Cliffhanger! Sorry guys. And sorry it's so short too.

Kujaku's favorite song is "Before It's Too Late" by the Goo-Goo Dolls, which always reminded me of him and Yasha. I don't own it, of course!

Koumokuten's line of "Why? Because I'm a bastard, pure and simple" was actually a reference to "The Great Muppet Caper", where Nicky Holliday, after being asked "Why are you doing this?" by Kermit, replies "Why? Because I'm a villain, pure and simple." Geez, Muppet lines and gay lovers in the same chapter…I must be insane.

Karura was about to say, "You should never let yourself be taken elsewhere if you can help it" before Taishakuten cut her off with a well-placed slam against the hood. This is true. It's much safer to stay where one is, because if one is taken, one has much less of a chance of coming out of it alive. Just a safety tip, kids.

Of course, if one has a gun to one's own head or one's loved ones heads, all bets are off, really.

So the showdown's going to happen in Zenmi Industries, in a nod to the manga. Of course, things are rather different, and while the majority of the cast doesn't die there –

Sorry, I can't ruin it. I'm so evil, teasing you all with these little tidbits, aren't I?)


	26. Rot In Hell

Karura glared at the man who'd ordered her sister killed. Held at gunpoint in the penthouse office of Zenmi Industries, she wanted nothing more than to attack him in a rage. But with Zouchouten cuffed kneeling beside her, anything she tried would end horribly and quickly.

Taishakuten lounged back in Kisshouten's chair, watching his prisoners, completely in control. "You made a grave mistake, running off like that," he scolded them softly. "I really expected better of a former police officer. Still, your spirit is commendable, and I see that neither of you is trembling in fear and begging for mercy."

He regarded Karura in patient amusement and purred, "Let's make a deal." He nodded and Bishamonten and Koumokuten stepped back slightly.

"Ms. Skye, I know that a government agency has been helping you. I want to know where your contact person is," Taishakuten murmured. "It would be in your best interests to tell me."

Stubborn silence.

"No? All right. Southland, what about you?"

"I have no idea," Zouchouten lied, gazing at Taishakuten steadily.

The crime lord nodded calmly. "Fine. Oeste," he smiled, "take her away."

Koumokuten grabbed Karura's arm, pulling her with him to the exit as she struggled against him. "You want me to make her talk?"

Taishakuten shook his head, casual and unconcerned. "Oh no, that chance has passed. I want you to make sure she never bothers us again. Do what you will to her."

Koumokuten grinned evilly at this carte blanche. "Gotcha."

"NO!" Zouchouten's anguished bellow rent the air. "No! Let her go! You –"

_Wham!_

Bishamonten had kicked him, quite effectively cutting him off. Karura struggled even harder at this, but couldn't break free of Koumokuten's grip as he dragged her out the door.

As he pulled her down the hallway, he smirked, "Hey Skye, just relax. You give me what I want, I won't kill you." His glance at her chest made his meaning quite clear.

He opened another door, throwing her inside then locking it behind him. Jarred from the fall, she had barely begun to get her bearings before he yanked her up, pushing her against the wall and trapping her with his body.

"So," he brought his face in close to hers, "I'll give you a choice: we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Not like you've never done it before."

"Tell me something…" Taishakuten walked a circle around his desperate captive. "I'm curious as to why you didn't rein your little darling in. After all, she was the one who got you into this. The hints we sent you weren't subtle, and if you'd heeded my earlier warnings one of your employees would still have her sight, and another her life."

He almost smiled as he leaned down to meet Zouchouten's glare. "So perhaps…you decided this would impress Ms. Skye? You get yourself a lovely woman young enough to be your daughter and common sense goes out the window? That's a potentially fatal midlife cris–"

"Father, what's going on here?"

Every head turned to stare at a red-haired young man, who was standing there with no shirt and an expression of sickened shock on his face. "Oh my God, what are you –?"

"Tenou? I'm surprised to see you here. Did Kisshouten need some late-night assistance?" Taishakuten purred as Bishamonten regarded Tenou suspiciously. "Perhaps it's time you got your head out of those clouds and learned the family business."

Taishakuten moved towards his son, who stumbled back at the gun being offered him.

"I can't –"

"You can't believe this?" Taishakuten taunted. "Is that what you were going to say? Open your eyes. You've been living in denial, and that's going to stop right now."

He grabbed his son's jaw, forcing him to look him in the eye. "We're mob bosses, Tenou. Killing is what we do, and you've embarrassed me long enough. Now," he pressed the gun into Tenou's hand, "executing someone is not difficult. The main thing to remember is to step back from potential blood splatter," he said, like a professor lecturing on the basics of a simple engineering problem.

Tenou's face turned green. "I'm going to throw up," he moaned, then fainted. Zouchouten, Taishakuten, and Bishamonten watched him fall, one with astonishment, two with amusement.

The crimelord turned back to his victim. "I have a hard time believing he's really my son. I'm actually getting our DNA checked," he said conversationally.

As Taishakuten circled Zouchouten, Koumokuten was waiting for Karura's answer. "So…what's it gonna be, Skye?" he gloated, giving her a feral smirk. "It's gonna happen one way or another."

_Stay calm. Lure him into making a mistake, and then take him __down__. _Karura forced herself to nod and ask, "What do you want me to do?"

The smile on his face made her want to tear his lungs out. "See. I knew you were smart." He stepped back slightly, gun coming up to aim at her head as he reached out and ripped her shirt open. "Skye, you do have great tits."

Using all her skill in acting and self-control, Karura managed not to scream in hatred as Koumokuten grabbed a bra-clad breast, because after all, he had that gun. He studied her reaction: obviously unhappy, but not fighting back.

"Skye," he decided generously, "you know what, I'll undo your cuffs…but one false move and you die, okay?"

She was very confused as the handcuffs were clicked off. This did give her more power, but damn it all, that gun was still –

"Nobody deserves to be cuffed for sex," he muttered. "Fucking woods."

Karura's mind flashed back to the picnic: Aguni, grinning as she whispered something into Koumokuten's ear; Koumokuten, wrists bruised and glaring at Aguni later.

The appalled, desperate, and hate-filled Karura looked Koumokuten in the eye and rasped out, "Is this what you did to Aguni too?"

It startled him for just a moment…but that was all Karura needed. Her arm came up, shoving the gun to the side as he squeezed the trigger.

As the bullet impacted on the wall, her other fist broke his nose and sent him staggering back. He barely had time to shout before her leg came up in a push kick, snapping his collarbone and pushing him to the floor. She shut him up with a savage strike to the pressure point in his neck, rage making her kick him again for good measure.

"You absolute _bastard!_" she hissed, the first noise she'd made since she'd started to fight back, tears in her eyes. _Go to hell!_

The shot and strangled, masculine yell of pain from down the hall made Taishakuten look up. "Bishamonten," he said pensively, "perhaps it was a mistake to leave Oeste alone with Skye. Go fix it. Bring her back. After all," he smirked at the panicked Zouchouten, "her man's here. It'll be poetic, or some such thing."

As Bishamonten headed out the door, Taishakuten and Zouchouten stared at each other in a contest of wills. "Look, you can do what you want to me, but let her go. She suffered enough when you destroyed her sister," Zouchouten told the mob boss, sounding frantic.

Taishakuten smiled sadistically. "If you think I am going to let that woman go free, you are a complete and utter idiot. She's out for blood...and so am I."

"Ms. Skye, if you come out now, you will not be harmed."

Silence, and Bishamonten grinned evilly and continued, "All right, I lied, but if you do _not _come out I will make sure Southland dies in slow agony, and that, my dear lady, is a promise. And I am very good at keeping promises."

Inside the locked room, Karura clutched the gun and considered her options. Bargaining with Koumokuten's life would be useless, as she was pretty sure Bishamonten would just say, "All right, then shoot him now" and mean it. Trying to kill Bishamonten was also not a good idea, as he was a professional hitman and would no doubt be expecting something like that. Shooting out the window and going onto the roof might work, but –

_Zouchouten. _

If he died, and he no doubt would in a very nasty way if she didn't surrender, she would never, _ever _be able to live with herself if it was her fault.

They would both die anyway, logic told her, but at least it wouldn't be on her head. _I couldn't save Karyou, and I can't save Zouchouten now…but she died and I never said goodbye, and he will die knowing I love him._

Giving the window an agonized, longing glance, Karura put down the gun and told Bishamonten, "I'm coming out."

"Good. Your heart rules your head, I see. Unlock the door and step back, Skye. If you open it before I do, I kill you and suggest that Taishakuten torture your man to death." Bishamonten sounded very pleased with himself.

She obeyed, standing with her back to the wall. The door stayed closed for a couple seconds, then Bishamonten threw it open. Training his gun on her and glancing at his unconscious associate, he held out an open hand.

"Put your hands up. I mean it. Try anything and I shoot you in an artery, and you die bleeding out your life's blood while your boyfriend dies screaming from expert torture."

Karura did as he said, and walked towards him slowly, making sure she kicked Koumokuten on the way out.

Bishamonten laughed at this. Grabbing her arm in an iron grip, he propelled her back down the hallway, murmuring, "Funny. Women like you think you're so strong. Kisshouten was the same way, once."

They were back at the office. Bishamonten threw Karura to the ground and kicked her lightly, smirking, "Here she is. Just like you wanted."

Karura's gaze went immediately to Zouchouten, who looked like he was near tears but was still very much alive, she noted with acute relief.

"Karura Skye." Motioning to Bishamonten to take his place covering Zouchouten, Taishakuten strutted over to her, holstering his gun, and grabbed her chin. "You have actually been rather a threat to me. Not many people have. You should feel honored by that."

She went for his throat and he fended her off, twisting her arms and forcing her to her knees, then putting a triumphant foot on her back after walking behind her. He held her wrists up in one hand, squeezing so hard the bones ground together. _Checkmate, Skye…_

"Befitting such an enemy, I will not kill you. I may break every bone in your body, but I will leave you alive," he laughed, untruthful and merciless. "He," he nodded towards Zouchouten, "will pay the price for you."

"NO!" Her enraged scream echoed off the walls, making Bishamonten wince ever so slightly.

"Father, you can't!" a pained, woozy, but very determined voice said from the floor. Tenou King got to his feet, pale and shaking. "Please, don't."

"Silence, Tenou," Bishamonten snapped, fed up with the younger man. "For all you know they're rival gang members who tried to take out your mother."

Tenou looked at Zouchouten and Karura, and then made a brave, incredibly noble, and very, very stupid decision: he stepped in front of Zouchouten. "No. I can't let you kill them."

Bishamonten raised his gun immediately, but a single wave of the hand from his boss made him lower it. "Take out the bullets and put them on the desk, Bishamonten."

As he obeyed, Taishakuten gazed at his son with something like respect. "I see. You know I won't destroy my own offspring. But I _am_ curious…what do you plan on doing now? Skye tried to kill me and for that she must die. You must realize that I can incapacitate you very easily and – stop that!"

Tenou had stepped behind Zouchouten and grabbed him by the wrists, feeling for the catch on his handcuffs. "No_."_

"Tenou, do _not_ let him go!"

The second Zouchouten was free, he launched himself at his savior's father, and Taishakuten managed to fire only one shot before the bigger man hit him like a ton of homicidal bricks. The resulting spray of crimson clearly indicated that the bullet had connected, but with both men on the ground and trying to kill each other, Karura couldn't tell where.

"Take him out!" the crime lord yelled, unable to grab his semiautomatic, which had been knocked out of his hand at the impact. He shoved his assailant off him, only to be pinned again by a body slam. "Take him _out!_"

Karura lunged for the gun as Bishamonten tried to kick it out of range, and he got there first. The Glock skittered off to the side and caromed off a chair, landing six feet away, much too far to do any good. Picking Karura up bodily and hurling her in the opposite direction, Bishamonten then tried to grab Zouchouten, who was currently strangling the mob boss in a one-armed chokehold.

Zouchouten's only response was to toss Taishakuten at his second-in-command. The impact brought all three of them to the floor, a seething tangle of designer suits and jeans mixed with blood and rage.

Karura joined the fray, because what else could she do? Forcing Bishamonten's arm back, she glanced desperately at Tenou, who was frozen in shock. "Gun!" she barked. "Get the gun!"

In front of Zenmi Industries, Kujaku vaulted over the police barrier that had been set up, Smythe, Shara, and an exuberant Just following him. After shooting off the door lock, Playboy One raced inside, badge held out as alarms blared.

"Federal agent! Put your weapons down _now!_"

The men Taishakuten had left guarding the lobby of the building (and a couple new ones) completely ignored his warning. They opened fire quickly, silently, and very skillfully, bullets cratering the marble floor and walls as the team took cover behind a thick pillar.

"Ku, we can't get through 'em like this. We'll have to wait for more reinforcements," Smythe gasped, taking occasional shots around the pillar as local enforcement took up similar positions.

Kujaku shook his head. "No. We do that and Taishakuten adds two more victims to his extensive kill list!"

"We could already be too late," Shara pointed out, conserving her ammo. "Really, we could be."

Kujaku snapped, "Dammit, do you think I don't know that? Just!"

"Yessir!" The weapons specialist grinned maniacally, exchanging one spent gun for a new one from his bag.

"Did you bring the machine gun?"

Just shook his head matter-of-factly. "Nope."

Kujaku paled, horrified. "WHAT?"

"I brought the grenades instead, silly." Just armed one, then tossed it expertly at the guards with a cheery "Have a nice day, mofos!"

The guards blinked, started to yell "Oh shi –", and could do nothing as it sailed almost in slow motion towards them, actually hitting one in the chest.

And with a thundering boom, the explosion lit up the night.

Many floors above them, another battle raged. With his shrieking second-in-command held in a headlock six feet away by now, most of Taishakuten's brain was simply astounded that he, _he, Taishakuten King,_ was actually in danger of dying. He was fighting for his life, pulling out all the stops, and Zouchouten Southland, a mere mortal, was holding his own even with a wounded arm.

Of course, berserker rage _was _helping his opponent, but Taishakuten felt that this really wasn't fair at all. He was a killer: he'd killed Agent Lord and he would easily kill this man, so why was he unable to do so right now?

Well, his gun might help there. It was much too far away as well, now held by his double-crossing little worm of a son, who seemed unable to shoot it in fearful shock.

"Shoot him!" Bishamonten yelled. "Tenou, if you don't give me that right now I'll – ack!"

Karura had just pinned him and put a knee in his throat. She held out a hand and Tenou passed the Glock to her, eyes wide.

Taishakuten grimaced, teeth bared, and slashed Zouchouten's face with his sharp nails (they were a fashion statement). He was very disappointed that his furious opponent took little notice. Damn it, he'd just marked the guy like a leopard, blood was already starting to seep from the gashes, and it was almost _scary._

Karura aimed the gun at Taishakuten as Bishamonten gathered his strength and surged up, making her lose her balance. Yanking the semiautomatic from her grip, he smacked her with his other hand and fired a shot.

It went wide, barely missing Taishakuten's assailant. Taishakuten felt like yelling "Damn it, you idiot, kill him already!" but he could no longer speak, his throat gripped in Zouchouten's left hand as the other man snarled, a wordless, incensed sound.

As Karura went for the gun again, Zouchouten, his brain finally realizing that his right arm was in pain and rapidly losing blood, hurled Taishakuten against the edge of the desk and followed him, his weight forcing the crime lord's back to bend unnaturally.

The sound Taishakuten made then wasn't even human: it was a primal, animal echo of agony.

They both fell back to the floor, Zouchouten to his knees, grimacing, as Taishakuten dropped his head and blacked out. The bigger man turned to look for Karura as his vision cleared of the red mist but started to darken around the edges.

There was pain in his side from the impact. His right arm was rapidly becoming useless. He was getting blood in his eyes.

And Bishamonten had just aimed the semiautomatic at Karura.

Before Zouchouten could go for him, she yanked Bishamonten's gun arm down, pulling him forward as the bullet plowed into the floor. She was feeling a little berserk herself. The hitman rolled, still holding the gun, and yanked himself from her grasp as Karura looked for Zouchouten and Tenou went for Bishamonten.

Zouchouten looked like he was dying. His face was pale where it wasn't bloody, and speaking of blood –

_Oh God._

She started for him, but a yelp from Tenou made her turn. Bishamonten smirked triumphantly, holding his boss's son by the neck, gun aimed point-blank at his head. "Move and he dies."

And instinct said, _Better him than Zouchouten._

But then her man's voice barked, "Let him go!"

And so Karura stared helplessly as her higher brain functions kicked in, unable to sacrifice the young man, even as he nodded at her frantically.

Zouchouten toppled over, adrenaline no longer able to keep him upright, blood pouring from beneath the hand he clasped to his right arm as Karura gasped. _Oh God, he's going to bleed to death, and I'll have to watch him do it and be completely helpless as he goes into shock – _

"Bishamonten!"

Kisshouten North was suddenly standing in the doorway, clutching a silk robe over her obviously nude form. Her husband stared at her incredulously, then threw Tenou into the wall with vicious fury.

"Kisshouten, get back to your damn room," he snarled. "I'll be in later and we will have a _very _serious discussion about the consequences of you cheating on me." He leveled his gun at Karura, who braced herself to die.

"No." Kisshouten's voice was firm and cold, and he started to turn, incredulous. "What?"

She put two bullets into him before he could draw breath to yell at her, the small silver pistol she'd been concealing doing its job quickly. Bishamonten stared at Kisshouten, shocked, falling to his hands and gasping for air.

"This was my father's gun," she informed him icily as his vision went black. "Rot in hell, you monster."

And she stepped over his body to get to Tenou.

(AN: Oh man, the cliffiest cliffhanger of this entire story. But go Kisshouten! I felt so proud writing that part, despite my fondness for Bishamonten. But hey, he put her through hell, so better him than anyone else, really.

I'd like to fantasize, in true moronic fangirl fashion, that Shashi will feel bad at her adulterous lover's death, but she'll probably just shrug it off. 'Cause she's Shashi, after all. But hey, if there's a Hell, maybe she and Bishie will meet up there someday and get it on amidst sulfuric flames, or something.

I reworked the fight scenes a number of times, and this was the best I could come up with. No doubt there are still holes, but I did close a number of other ones up. So is Tenou gonna be okay after being thrown into a wall? Will _Zouchouten _survive being _shot?_ And is Taishakuten dead, or just out for the count?

And how will Koumokuten come out of this one? He deserves it, though, he truly does. Shouldn't have tried to rape Karura, Koumie. Shouldn't have threatened Karura, Tai. And shouldn't have held Tenou by the neck, Bish…or been trying to shoot people, really.

So next time, in the final chapter, all you fine people can see if Zouchouten makes it. And if Kujaku can clean up this town.)


	27. Stay With Me

"That's two shots at least fired," Kujaku panted to Shara and Smythe as they burst out of the elevator, fully loaded guns drawn and having left Just happily reading the surviving guard his rights. "Assets primary, assailants secondary. Take them _out_. Are the paramedics on the way?" 

"Yes. They're right behind us," Smythe nodded.

"Let's pray they're not too late," Shara muttered softly.

They hurtled down the hallway, meeting no resistance, following the sounds of someone yelling and someone else hyperventilating coming from the executive suite.

Peering around a corner, Kujaku once again bellowed, "Federal agent! Come out with –"

"KUJAKU! In here! They're dead!"

Karura Skye, at least, was alive. So Kujaku, gun out and backed up by Smythe and Shara, rounded the corner and burst into the CEO's office.

A strange tableau met their eyes: Bishamonten was dead. Taishakuten was probably dead. Zouchouten was probably going to be dead soon without help. Karura was alive and kneeling next to him. A bruised, shirtless Tenou King was alive and frantically hugging a half-naked Kisshouten North (also alive).

Shara gasped, Smythe stared, and Kujaku took in the situation at a single glance, then holstered his gun and ripped his shirt off. "Right. Stop the bleeding."

Karura had already wrapped her own shirt around Zouchouten's arm, which she had elevated, and Kisshouten was in the process of taking off her robe (it was a good thing, Karura thought detachedly, that her hair was so long).

"Stay with me, Zouchouten," the younger woman ordered, squeezing his hand. "Come on, fight it. Stay with me!"

"That's what I always wanted to do," he managed, voice thick with pain. "Karura…"

"Don't you _dare_ leave me now," she ordered, slapping his face to get him to focus on her. "Do you hear me, Zouchouten? …ZOUCHOUTEN!" she screamed as his eyes rolled up and he became dead weight.

"Shock," Kujaku told Karura, taking some of Zouchouten's weight off of her. "He's losing blood fast."

He looked up in relief at the sudden addition of more people in the room. "Paramedics. Thank God."

Karura spent the next twenty-four hours in a hospital waiting room, leaving only when ordered by a doctor to get some rest and eat something. Kendappa and Souma found her in the cafeteria, staring into a plate of macaroni like it was a foreign artifact from Mars and she had no idea what it was for.

"All right, we're taking you home. You're no good to anybody like this, and you need to take care of Garuda," Souma told Karura firmly as Kendappa hugged her, sniffling. Karura shook her head.

"I can't leave him. What if something happens?" she croaked, and Kendappa put her hands on her hips and went into lecture mode.

"Karura Skye, he's had a blood transfusion and he's alive. He's going to be _fine. _Zouchouten will never forgive us if he comes to and you've died of exhaustion, now let's _go._"

Karura's lips trembled as she insisted, "I still want to stay."

Souma put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I'll stay with him. Go home for a little while. I promise you he'll be here when you return."

Karura fed an upset Garuda, promised him she'd be back, and took a much-needed shower. When she came out of her bathroom (Zouchouten's bathroom, she reminded herself) there was a message on her phone saying he was asking for her.

Kendappa broke a record number of speed limits as they returned to the hospital, and he'd still fallen back asleep by the time they got there. "Well, he's on an awful lot of morphine," the doctor told Karura matter-of-factly. "He'll probably be pretty out of it when he does awake."

She sagged into a chair, gazing at her man. _He shouldn't look like this_, she thought desperately, _all pale and drawn and helpless_. _He should be ordering the nurses around and laughing about how stupid we were, and suggesting we use the hospital bed for erotic activities. _

She took in a shaky breath. _I swear to you, Zouchouten, that if you get better, I'll let you yell at Mrs. Feeny and buy you a new Harley myself._

She cried then, and it helped, and she fell asleep in the horribly uncomfortable chair.

A perfectly groomed male fashion plate, and his headbanded coworker bearing a teddy bear, peeked into the room the next morning. "Oh my sweet sexy _Judas,_ he looks like he's been hit by a truck," Vahyu breathed.

Varuna gulped, "I'd hate to see the truck. Do you think it's totaled?"

"That's not funny at all, Varuna." Zouchouten sounded very groggy yet distinctly annoyed. "Where's Karura?"

Varuna smiled. "She's sleeping in that chair next to you, drooling on her shirt and probably getting a really stiff neck. It's so cute," he said with overly loud happiness as Vahyu sighed theatrically.

"Well, don't wake her," his boss ordered weakly, opening his eyes. "Let her rest, and could one of you tell my nurse that I think my arm's on fire?"

"Zzz…wuh?" Karura made a noise like a drowning woman, her own eyes opening blearily.

Vahyu grinned, "I didn't do it, Zou. She's up on her own."

"Zouchouten!" She was at his side instantly.

"Hey, Skye. Good to see you."

They grinned at each other stupidly. Zouchouten looked older and had dark circles under his eyes, and Karura's hair was kinked from having dried in a strange position and her shirt had saliva on it. But each of them gazed at the other like they were staring at the most wonderful thing in the world.

She leaned forward and kissed him, hard, as Varuna set the teddy bear down and Vahyu beamed proudly. "Keep it PG, guys," the bouncer laughed. "It's a freakin' hospital with little kids in it, y'know?"

"Actually, I haven't seen any kids here," Varuna qualified, "but there _are _scary-old-woman nurses."

"Vahyu," Zouchouten managed as Karura finally pulled away, "go make Varuna talk to a battle-ax nurse to get over his phobia of them. I mean, c'mon, I'm kind of strapped to an IV with a ruined arm, cracked ribs, and my head is still fuzzy from painkillers."

"That's wise of you," Varuna intoned, nodding seriously. "Strenuous physical activity is a no-no for awhile, and – ow!"

Vahyu had grabbed him by the ear and was pulling him out. "Bye, Zou! Bye, Skye! Have fun with hospital sex!" the incorrigible man lilted, shutting the door.

Shaking her head, Karura turned back to Zouchouten. "Can I get you anything? Water? Crackers?" She smirked. "Perhaps a battle-ax nurse?"

"Oh thank you, young lady. Thank you _so _much," a firm voice said from behind her. A sixty-something female nurse with steel-grey hair and a no-nonsense frown had just opened the door. She fixed Karura with a glare and ordered, "Out. He needs more morphine, not a young woman sitting on his bed and annoying him. Let him rest."

As Karura started to get up, wondering how she could ever apologize, Zouchouten stopped her with a hand on her wrist. "She's not annoying me at all," he told Nurse Ratched. "In fact, her presence is making me feel a whole lot better."

The older woman cocked her head, studied them for a moment, and then smiled, suddenly looking much more approachable. "All right then. Your girlfriend can stay, Mr. Southland."

Five hours later found Karura eating crackers and reading "People" next to a slumbering Zouchouten. She had just turned to an article on "World's Sexiest Biologists" when a happy voice broke the silence.

"Hey Skye! How's it hangin'?"

She turned to look behind her. Kujaku Valentine was standing in the doorway, his hand on the shoulder of an adorable, wide-eyed little boy and accompanied by a stoic-looking man who was nevertheless smiling slightly.

"We brought you some chocolates," Kujaku told her seriously. "Candy makes everything so much better."

"Thank you, Kujaku," Karura replied, taking the proffered box. "But he's asleep."

"Yasha, if I eat my vegetables, will _I _grow up to be that big and strong?" the child breathed, awestruck, and the man apparently called Yasha laughed, "Maybe. Eat them anyway, Ashura."

"This is Yasha Yama, the man who holds my life in his hands." Kujaku nodded at him.

"Are you a federal officer? His boss maybe?" Karura asked Yasha.

"No, I'm a Literature teacher." He touched Kujaku's arm proprietarily. "_He's_ 007."

"And you're my fanservice love interest," Kujaku teased as Yasha rolled his eyes indulgently, and his son piped up with "What's fanservice?"

Kujaku smirked, and Yasha deflected the question with a well-placed "Ashura, I think that nurse has stickers for you. Let's go see, okay?"

"Yay!" Ashura scampered off, pulling Yasha's hand, and was soon surrounded by an entire gaggle of nurses fighting over who could give him stickers first. Kujaku watched the good-natured competition with a contented smile on his face, then turned back to Karura, nodding at Zouchouten.

"How's he doing?"

"He's knocked out on painkillers," she answered. "The doctors tell me they can save his right arm, but his ulna's been shattered and he may never have full use of it again."

Kujaku nodded. "Well, at least he's alive, despite the ribs, the arm, and the facial cuts." He grinned almost proudly. "He looks like he took on a wildcat…which he did, in a way."

"The wildcat's dead, I hope," Karura murmured fervently, and was incredibly disappointed when Kujaku shook his head.

"No, Taishakuten's being kept in a secure location under armed guard. But I will be _very _surprised if he ever walks again, thanks to your boyfriend's enthusiastic impression of a steamroller."

Karura grinned, a slightly sadistic expression. "He deserves it. Will he get the death penalty? Please say 'yes'. He killed Karyou, he blinded Hanranya, and poor Aguni –"

"Actually, despite having personally killed an awful lot of people, in this little chapter of his career he only gave the orders. We may never know who blew up the Four Gods, but we _do _know that Koumokuten murdered Aguni. Loopy on painkillers himself, he admitted it, and his DNA is an exact match."

She shuddered. "Was she –?"

Kujaku shook his head emphatically. "No, she was most definitely _not _assaulted in any way. The autopsy showed that Ms. Leonidas was, shall we say, a very happy woman just before she died, and there were no indications of sexual violence at all. Indeed, Oeste said she had him restrained, and the man does have bruised wrists."

Both of them were silent for a moment, then Karura said quietly, "He still just…used her and shot her. What a monster."

Kujaku stole one of Karura's crackers, nodding. "Well, you can take some joy in the fact that he's in intensive care and being held without bail," he told her, munching as he talked. "I would advise you not to tell Zouchouten where he is unless you want Zou arrested for murder. I somehow have the distinct sense he'd like nothing better than to rip Oeste's head off, shattered ulna or no shattered ulna."

"He tried to rape me," she told him, angrier than all get-out. "He was going to use me for some sort of sick power thing."

"Yes. I know it might be hard, but you'll have to testify about –"

"Oh no, that will _not _be hard," Karura told Kujaku firmly, looking like an avenging Valkyrie. "I will stand up in court and tell the world exactly what happened and what he did, and I will see him rot in prison for the rest of his miserable life."

She clenched the chair arm like it was a certain someone's defenseless neck. "And if he tries to say it was consensual in _any_ way, I will get his legal defense barred from practicing law and let Zouchouten at the man he thought was his friend. And then I will join in myself."

"Whoa, Skye, there's no need for the Dynamic Duo. We raided Koumie's house and found an awful lot of evidence that says he's a scumbag," Kujaku told her, a tad worried about the possibility of the chair cracking.

She let it go reluctantly and sighed, "Zouchouten's beating himself up about Koumokuten. I mean, they were best friends for twenty years, after all."

Kujaku said incredulously, "He thinks Oeste was forced into doing it? No, he clearly –"

"No, that's not it." Karura squeezed Zouchouten's hand as he muttered something about diamonds. "Zouchouten thinks he should have realized what Koumokuten was before he blew up the bar and tried to kill us."

"Not to mention his bike," Kujaku chipped in.

Karura shook her head. "He hasn't even mentioned the Harley. Shocking, I know," she smiled indulgently.

Kujaku had a hard time believing this. "Wow. That thing was like his _kid._" He briefly pondered messing with the older man's morphine-fueled dreams, but decided that Karura would probably put him into a stranglehold if he whispered "Sparkly elephants…singing Duran Duran…on motorcycles" into Zouchouten's ear.

"You said you raided Koumokuten's house. Did you raid Taishakuten's base?" she asked, having a brief, enjoyable vision of a compound going up in flames while gang members bawled for their mothers and surrendered.

Kujaku smiled. It was an _evil _smile. "Oh yes. Tenou gave us the location, and we showed up with an entire SWAT battalion and a squad of Blackhawks, and believe it or not, we didn't have too much resistance.

"We figured out why when we got inside. Most of the guards were already dead, and the others were babbling about how Taishakuten's wife called them all together, brandished a machine gun, and went psycho before she took three lovesick hitmen with her and left."

Karura's jaw dropped. Kujaku expected an astonished question about a single person taking out an entire mansion of criminals, but instead he got "Three? Damn."

Both pondered the mechanics of Shashi and three hitmen, decided they'd rather not know, and shuddered in unison.

"I think somewhere, there must have been like a Dalai Lama-type pacifist in Tenou's ancestry, if his mother was that dangerous. I wouldn't want to be on the team that gets sent to capture _her,_" Kujaku admitted.

"Yes…Tenou was scared, but he and Kisshouten saved us," Karura said quietly. "What's going to happen to him? And his father's capture must have left quite a power vacuum. Will rivals be gunning for him now?"

Kujaku shook his head. "Absolutely not. Taishakuten's second-in-command is dead, thanks to Kisshouten, and everyone else thought Tenou was a wimpy dingbat. They were taking bets on when Taishakuten would get fed up and kill him. Still," he nodded, "he'll probably be spending the rest of his life watched by federal agents for his own protection, along with Ms. Sexy CEO."

Karura' s gaze turned proud. "She killed her abusive husband, Kujaku. She helped save Zouchouten's life. And I can't let her go to prison for what she was forced to do by Bishamonten and Taishakuten."

"Kisshouten North and Tenou King have been granted amnesty for their future testimony against his father and his organization." Kujaku smiled, looking rather amused. "And I hear he proposed to her the minute they were both cleared to leave, on bended knee and kissing her hand."

Karura beamed, "Good. If anybody ever deserved a sweet, caring man, it's Kisshouten. She went through so much."

Kujaku cocked his head and muttered, "It is a little unorthodox, I mean, he's twenty and she's like forty –"

"Thirty-eight, Kujaku, and sometimes," she stroked Zouchouten's temple fondly, "sometimes love conquers barriers like age."

Kujaku snorted at such cheesy sentiments. "I get it, I get it, you and Zouchouten, Tenou and Kisshouten…yeah, I get it. Age is just a number, and all that."

Karura sighed and changed the subject then. "You never told me who you worked for, you know."

Kujaku laughed. "And I'm not going to. You don't need to know that. Just be glad we were keeping an eye on you." He glanced fondly at Yasha, who was letting Ashura stick a smiley-face on his father's cheek. "And that my honey went to the bar that day."

He faced her again. "What Zouchouten's insurance doesn't cover for the rebuilding will be taken care of, and you may want to check your bank statements and report a few capital gains to the IRS."

At her speechless silence, Kujaku laughed again. "Think of it as a thank-you for what you did. Taishakuten was more dangerous than you know, and the fact that we got him alive is more than I'd hoped for."

He turned serious and continued, "Zouchouten was lucky. Most people who went against Taishakuten King came back in a body bag. Or several. Breaking a couple ribs and an arm is like getting off scot-free."

"I know."Karura's voice trembled in sudden emotion. "Oh _God, _do I know."

"He went crazy, losing it completely, when he thought you were going to die. That was really, really foolhardy of him," Kujaku murmured. "But I understand why. His subconscious no doubt figured that life without you was unacceptable."

He gave her a sunny grin. "He's got it bad…and that, Karura, is even better than chocolate."

**Epilogue**

Ryuu Nahga carefully stepped onto the icy street in front of Yasha's house, noting the interesting snow sculptures that graced the yard: a small snowboy with huge eyes between two taller snowmen, the one on the left with a frowny-face picked out in food coloring and the one on the right winking and grinning.

_That weirdo Valentine…he must have been the wackiest secret agent in the history of the world._

Moving slowly so as not to fall and crack his head open, Ryuu walked up the sidewalk. Geez, he still couldn't believe that Yasha, sensible man that he was, was in love with Whacko Kujaku. Talk about your yin and yang.

Still, Yasha seemed a lot happier now. And Ashura was nearly insane with glee, silly child. Ryuu shrugged, smiled, and pressed the doorbell.

A happy shout of "I got it!" rang out from behind the door, and there was the sound of running feet. Ashura yanked the door open, the other two occupants of the house right behind him.

"Well hi, Ryuu!" Kujaku beamed, holding a mug of hot chocolate (with extra whipped cream and marshmallows). Good lord, what was that man _wearing _on his feet?

Ryuu looked at him oddly. "Yeah, hi Valentine. Nice…" he peered at Kujaku's footwear, "reindeer slippers."

Kujaku grinned in response. Just because Ryuu still disliked him didn't mean he couldn't _try._ "And what a _comfy-looking _jacket you have, Ryuu!"

The teenager sighed and nodded to Ashura. "You ready, kid?"

Ashura, clad in no less then five layers of protective clothing, nodded back in exuberant anticipation. "Yup! Let's go sledding, Ryuuy!"

He turned back to Yasha and Kujaku. "Bye! Ryuuy says this hill is like an Olympic ski run!"

After assuring Yasha that no, the hill wasn't actually dangerous, Ryuu waved goodbye and headed back to his truck, Ashura trailing after him excitedly.

Ryuu, Kujaku thought cheerfully, was a godsend. Back home from college on winter break, he played with Ashura whenever he could…leaving Ashura's sexy father and said father's also-sexy fiancé to have, well, sex.

Kujaku smirked and closed the door. "I hope they have so much fun they forget what time it is and stay out until sunset, don't you, Yasha?"

Yasha smirked as well. "No, but I _do_ hope they have so much fun they stay out longer than they'd planned to."

Kujaku moved back into the living room, closing the shades. "Hey Sexy Interrogator Yasha…you wanna cuff Playboy One to the coffee table?"

Yasha considered this. Hmm, that might be fun. It was certainly more fun than Sexy Spy Kujaku handcuffing Defenseless Civilian Yasha to the coffee table (although if Yasha was being honest, that had been rather fun too).

He decided to be magnanimous. "Why don't you just cuff yourself to me, Kujaku. Now that," he grinned evilly, "my innocent child is out of the house, and I already unplugged the phone, there should be no interruptions whatsoever."

Kujaku took a cookie from the plate Zouchouten and Karura had brought over yesterday. "First, I'll feed you a gingerbread man, okay? _Then_ I'll go get my handcuffs. I'm so glad Twelve let me keep those when I turned in my badge."

Yasha was rather glad too, actually. After all…variety was the spice of life.

As the radio played a song about a beautiful ninja, Kujaku fed Yasha a cookie, both of them smiling. Ah, it should have been like this for years.

"…That was 'Ninja Queen', the top song for five weeks running, off Gandarajah's hit album 'Moon Lady'! I'm Ryan Oceancrest, and we'll be talking to Kendappa Oh, the band's frontwoman, in just a couple minutes. But before we do, I want to tell you about–"

A beaming Karura switched her car radio off. Kendappa's band had hit the big-time, and the musician, despite staying here in Tenkai City to live, was in demand all over the globe. Souma grinned and hugged Kendappa and fended off interviewers herself, for inspiring the platinum record.

_Yes…they have their happy ending._

Opening up the side door of her car, Karura grabbed her grocery bags, shut the door with her foot, and strolled out of the garage and up the back sidewalk. Unlocking the back door, then nudging it open with her hip, she picked her bags back up and went into the house. "I'm home!" she called. "Zouchouten?"

No response. _He must still be at the pet store._

Realizing that she was missing something, she moved into the kitchen. "Oh, damn…I forgot the milk," she muttered. _Now I have to go all the way back and it just started snowing, and –_

"Karura? C'mere a second, okay?" a familiar deep voice called from the living room.

_Oh. He is back after all. _

Zouchouten was standing looking out the window, wearing a knitted sweater and rubbing his right arm absentmindedly. "You know, I always thought my uncle was lying when he said he could feel the weather in his Nazi-inflicted war wound, but I stand corrected now." He sighed and muttered, "I'm getting old, Karura."

"Oh, stop that," she scolded. "You were only shot three months ago, so it's bound to get better. You do the physical therapy religiously, after all."

"I suppose." He turned an amused glance to her. "At least it gives me an excuse not to shovel Mrs. Feeny's sidewalks this year."

Karura smirked. "Yes." Then she glanced out the window and sighed, "I have to go back. I left the milk at the store."

"Stay here. Please?" He reached for her, and she nodded and let him pull her flush against him.

"Well, all right, but I did pay for it, and –"

Zouchouten cut her off by cupping her face in his hands. "Screw the milk," he growled softly. "Stay with me."

She kissed him then, but forced herself to pull back when he started to move his mouth to her neck and his hands further down. "Innocent little eyes, Zouchouten," she managed. "My bird is still in the room."

"I don't think Garuda will care. Look." He indicated the cage, where a pink-tinged cockatoo was contentedly letting itself be preened by a puffed-up Garuda.

"_Good_ Zouchouten," Garuda said happily.

Karura blinked in pleased surprise. "You got him a friend?"

"I got him a mate." He took a deep breath and faced her, looking suddenly intense. "She's a bit younger, but they seem to be doing just fine. They mate for life, you know."

"Yes, I know," she whispered, pretty sure that they weren't talking about birds anymore. "She's very happy with him."

"Happy enough to say yes?" he asked her seriously, all pretense forgotten. "It won't always be happiness all the way, but –"

"Of course it won't. How could it?" She reached out and brought his forehead down to touch hers. He'd just proposed to her with a cockatoo, and for some reason that was the most natural thing in the world. "And my answer is a resounding 'hell yes', and I am going to take you to bed and not let you up until sundown tomorrow because we'll be celebrating."

"Well, you'll have to feed the birds at some point," he pointed out. At her look of pure exasperation, he reconsidered. "Okay, we'll feed them together. It'll be good bonding time with the new one."

Karura crossed to the cage, opening the latch and stroking the female while Garuda burbled in excitement. "I've thought of the perfect name for you, sweetie," she told her as Zouchouten settled a hand on her shoulder.

"What?"

Karura smiled. "We'll call her Karyou."

**End.**

…Well, that's it folks. Ashura's gonna have two daddies now; Taishakuten's in the slammer; Kendappa has a major record deal; and Zouchouten and Karura can make it legal, have ten kids, and give 'em everything (okay, that last bit was a garbled quote from Train's "If It's Love", which I listened to repeatedly while writing this fic).

I learned an awful lot and grew as a writer during the course of creating "Tenkai City", and I hope other people have enjoyed reading it a fraction as much as I enjoyed writing it. Wishful thinking aside, I'd like to thank my brother, who lent me Just "I Love Frogs" Hopkins (may he live forever!) and whose well-developed sense of humor helped inspire much of this.

And of course CLAMP, who came up with all the characters save for Mrs. Feeny, Smythe, Just, Sylvia, Corteza, Jonathon Burkowitz-Jones, one-sceners with boring names, various people who didn't warrant a name, and Hans "Countersue _This_" Guttmannson. Basically, if they had a Japanese or Indian name, they don't belong to me, and I hope I didn't screw them up _too _much. They were caricatured with love! Oh, and Twelve was one of Lord Ashura's Twelve Generals, the one who whines "Why does our boss have to be married to such a bitch?" in an omake.

This entire fic was inspired by a song: "If We Ever Meet Again", by Timbaland and Katy Perry, which gave me a misty vision of Zouchouten and Karura meeting in a smoky bar after being reincarnated. I ended up ditching the reincarnation angle, but the flash of a few very detailed seconds, of him leaning on a counter and looking at her as she cried into a drink, both of them in modern clothes, stuck with me and I spun a whole story out of it.

Another inspiring song (geez, this is three in this ending note alone!) was Nickelback's "Fight For All The Wrong Reasons", which gave me the idea for Kujaku handcuffing Yasha to a bed, screwing up his life, and leaving him. Oh Ku…you do love teasing poor Yasha.

Oh, thanks also to Roach-lord, a good friend of mine who checked the facts on the weapons and injuries (Ollie, you violent little bugger you!)

I've got, let's see… no less than _twelve _other "Rg Veda" fics in the works, ranging from tragedy to comedy, but always romantic in some way because I'm hopelessly into that. The next one is a short, manga-based little offering on the bloodstained altar of Aguni/Koumokuten, and is, er, rather dark.

And thanks to ryuusama's disciple and Tata, the only ones who reviewed (you guys ROCK). And please… if you haven't reviewed, please do so so I can improve future fics!


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